BOY.  OK  GUJF.  UBRART.  LOS 


MENSHIKOFF 


OR 


THE   PEASANT  PRINCE 


BY 

ALFRED    D'AVELINE 


PHILADELPHIA : 

H.  L.  KILNER  &  Co., 

PUBLISHERS. 


• 


COPYRIGHT   1890, 

BY 
H.    L.    KlLNKR  &   CO. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGB 

THE   PIE-VENDER  ....        5 

CHAPTER  II. 

COMMENCEMENT   OF  A  BRILLIANT    CA- 
REER           2O 

CHAPTER  III. 

GREATNESS   BEWILDERS  .  .  .28 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   PATRONAL  FEAST  .  .  .42 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  DEPARTURE  AND  THE  RETURN  .   65 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  SEPARATION  .  .          .          .      8/ 


2128991 


4  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  PINNACLE  OF  FORTUNE          ,          .     97 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  FAITHFUL  SERVANT        .          .          .    IO8 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  FALL        .          .          ,         .«          ,          .    138 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE  EXILE     ,    .      £    >  ,  '_  ..-;„•     .,          .    152 

CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  CHALICE   OF  SORROWS  .          .185 

CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  END  .   202 


MENSHIKOFF; 

OR, 

THE  PEASANT  PRINCE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  PIE-VENDER. 

"  BUY,  buy ;  hot  pies,  hot  pies ;  buy  my 
Paris  pies,  while  they  are  hot." 

It  was  thus  a  boy  about  sixteen  years  of 
age  was  crying  his  pies  and  soliciting  custom 
as  he  traversed  the  streets  of  Moscow,  capital 
of  the  Russian  Empire,  where  his  sonorous 
voice  had  long  been  familiar.  An  enormous 
flat  basket,  covered  with  a  spotless  white 
napkin,  and  supported  by  two  leathern  straps 
which  passed  across  his  shoulders,  hung 
upon  his  chest.  As  he  walked  along,  he 
glanced  around  to  see  if  any  of  his  numerous 
5 


6  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

patrons  were  near,  and  from  time  to  time  he 
stopped  before  the  larger  buildings,  hoping 
to  attract  attention  and  dispose  of  his  pies. 
At  one  of  these  moments,  as  he  stood  with 
his  eyes  raised  to  the  windows  of  a  grand 
palace,  he  was  suddenly  surrounded  by  a 
band  of  drunken  soldiers  belonging  to  the 
turbulent  army  corps  formerly  designated 
by  the  Russians  under  the  name  of 
Strelitzes. 

"Hollo! "  they  cried  out  as  they  reeled 
towards  him  ;  "  take  care,  you  little  rascal ; 
look  where  you  are  going,  and  don't  thrust 
your  basket  against  us  as  if  trying  to  pierce 
us  through.  What  have  you  in  it  ?  Come, 
let  us  see  at  once." 

Saying  this  four  or  five  of  them  extended 
their  hands  and  endeavored  to  remove  the 
napkin  which  covered  the  pies.  The  boy 
resisted  them  with  all  his  strength;  for  he 
justly  feared  that  his  pastry  would  be  confis- 
cated for  the  benefit  of  the  soldiers  without 
any  pecuniary  advantage  to  himself. 

"Stop,  stop,  I  implore  you  in  the  name  of 
heaven  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  These  pies  were 
not  baked  for  you,  but  for  the  gracious  Czar 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  7 

Peter ;  for  the  Czar,  I  tell  you,  and  each  is 
worth  a  silver  rouble." 

"  I  care  not  whether  they  are  destined  for 
the  Czar  Peter  or  the  Czar  Ivan,  or  for  the 
Princess  Sophia,"  replied  one  of  the  Stre- 
litzes  with  a  grimace  intended  for  a  smile. 
"They  will  disagree  with  us  none  the  more 
on  that  account,  and  we  wish  to  know  how 
your  dainties  taste." 

The  young  pie-vender,  however,  continued 
to  defend  his  basket  against  the  attack  of 
the  intoxicated  men,  repeating  in  a  loud 
voice  all  the  time  that  the  pies  were  for  the 
Czar  Peter.  Overpowered,  however,  by  the 
number  of  his  assailants,  he  was  on  the  point 
of  abandoning  the  contest,  when  perceiving 
an  officer  approaching,  he  called  lustily  for 
aid. 

"  What  are  you  about  ?  "  he  said  to  the 
soldiers  in  a  harsh  and  threatening  manner. 
The  men,  terrified  by  the  sight  of  the  uni- 
form of  their  interrogator,  did  not  stop  to 
reply,  but  made  good  their  escape  as  quickly 
as  possible. 

"  What  was  the  difficulty  between  you  and 
the  Strelitzes?"  the  officer  asked  the  boy, 


8  MENSHIKOFF ; 

as  out  of  breath  and  heated  from  the  strug- 
gle in  which  he  had  been  engaged,  he 
lifted  the  napkin  from  the  basket  to  exam- 
ine the  condition  of  the  contents. 

He  was  so  preoccupied  by  this  inspection 
that  he  did  not  even  raise  his  eyes,  as  he 
answered  mechanically: 

"  The  blackguards  were  trying  to  seize 
my  pies." 

"  But  why  did  you  continue  to  repeat  the 
name  of  the  Czar  Peter?  "  inquired  the  offi- 
cer. 

"  Oh !  that  was  only  a  little  stratagem," 
replied  the  young  man,  now  regarding  his 
liberator  with  a  grateful  smile.  "  I  hoped  by 
using  his  name  to  inspire  them  with  some 
respect  for  my  property.  Besides,  the  Czar 
Peter  is  one  of  my  best  customers ;  he  often 
buys  my  pies." 

"  Take  my  advice  and  do  not  proclaim 
that  from  the  house-tops.  The  Princess 
Sophia  might  be  displeased  if  she  knew  you 
preferred  the  Czar  Peter  to  herself  and  to  the 
Czar  Ivan.  She  does  not  jest  about  such 
affairs.  Therefore,  be  prudent." 

"That  will   not   trouble   me;   I  sing  my 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  9 

song  in  honor  of  the  one  who  patronizes 
me,"  said  the  pie-vender.  "  If  the  Princess 
Sophia  was  one  of  my  customers,  and  if  she 
was  as  affable  and  kind  to  me  as  the  good 
Czar  Peter,  I  would  love  her  also." 

"  Be  constant  in  your  affection  for  the 
Czar  Peter,"  added  the  officer.  "  He  will,  no 
doubt,  continue  to  be  your  patron.  He  is  to 
dine  to-day  with  Prince  Lolopof,  whose  cook 
may  not  be  skilled  like  yourself  in  the  art 
of  making  delicious  pastry.  Suppose  you 
go  to  the  Lolopof  Palace  and  offer  your  dain- 
ties for  sale. " 

Having  said  this,  he  walked  off  without 
waiting  for  a  reply. 

The  advice  was  not  lost  on  the  boy.  He 
immediately  directed  his  steps  towards  the 
palace  of  the  prince,  and  standing  before  it 
commenced  his  usual  cry,  hoping  to  be 
called  in.  But  no  one,  apparently,  saw  or 
heard  him.  Noticing  that  the  door  was 
partly  open,  he  boldly  entered  the  large  hall, 
made  his  way  to  the  steward's  apartment, 
and  in  a  low  voice  said  to  the  head  cook : 

"  Will  you  not  buy  some  of  the  pies  which 
the  Czar  Peter  likes  so  much  ?" 


IO  MENSHIKOFF ; 

He  answered  harshly :  "  No,  we  make 
them  ourselves." 

It  so  happened  that  the  steward  heard  the 
petition  of  the  boy,  and  he  asked  him  : 

"Who  made  these  pies?  How  do  you 
know  that  the  Czar  Peter  is  fond  of 
them?  " 

"  They  are  made,"  replied  the  young  pie- 
vender,  "  by  the  celebrated  pastry  cook, 
Legrain,  formerly  of  Paris,  and  the  Czar 
Peter  often  buys  them  from  me." 

"  In  that  case  go  to  the  kitchen  and  wait 
awhile,"  said  the  steward.  "  I  will  tell  my 
master  ;  sit  down  until  I  return." 

The  servant  withdrew  and  the  boy  seated 
himself  on  a  bench  in  a  corner  of  the  room. 
He  waited  patiently  for  a  long  time.  At 
first  he  inhaled  with  pleasure  the  delicious 
odor  of  the  various  dishes  which  were  being 
prepared  in  the  kitchen.  But  being  very 
weary  from  his  long  walk  of  the  morning 
and  his  subsequent  contest  with  the 
Strelitzes,  the  poor  child  found  it  impossible 
to  resist  the  drowsiness  which  came  over 
him.  His  eyes  closed,  his  head  dropped, 
his  hands  relaxed  their  hold  upon  the  basket 


OR,   THE  PEASANT   PRINCE.  II 

containing  his  merchandise,  which,  however, 
rested  upon  his  knees,  being  prevented  from 
falling  by  the  double  leathern  straps 
attached  to  it. 

He  was  asleep  when  the  steward  re-entered 
the  kitchen.  The  latter  immediately  made 
a  sign  to  the  head  cook,  and  addressing  the 
scullions  and  aids,  ordered  them  to  go  at 
once  to  the  cellar  and  help  the  servants  to 
bring  up  three  hundred  bottles  of  wine. 

As  soon  as  they  Had  disappeared,  the 
steward  whispered  a  few  words  to  the  head 
cook,  who  nodded  assent  and  replied  in  a 
low  voice  : 

"Would  it  not  be  better  to  take  the 
basket  gently  from  the  boy  and  carry  out 
our  design  in  the  next  room  ?  " 

"  By  no  means,"  replied  the  steward.  "  It 
would  take  too  much  time,  and  the  boy 
might  waken  before  we  had  finished." 

"  It  is  not  necessary  to  sprinkle  the  pow- 
der over  all  the  pies,"  urged  the  cook. 

"  No,  no,  they  must  all  be  equally  pow- 
dered," said  the  steward;  "we  should 
betray  ourselves  if  they  should  discover 
poison  only  on  those  intended  for  the  Czar, 


12  MENSHIKOFF; 

whilst  the  rest  remained  untouched.  We 
must  so  manage  that  suspicion  will  rest 
solely  on  the  boy  and  his  master.  Of 
course,  in  order  to  prevent  the  affair  from 
being  noised  abroad  inopportunely,  we  will 
not  dismiss  the  young  man  until  a  few 
moments  before  the  pies  are  served." 

The  two  men  approached  the  sleeping 
boy,  cautiously  raised  the  napkin  which 
covered  the  basket,  and  sprinkled  over  all 
the  pies  a  white  powder,  resembling  sifted 
sugar.  Gently  replacing  the  napkin  the 
steward  left  the  room.  The  head  cook 
returned  to  the  range,  and  lifting  the  top  of 
a  large  copper  boiler,  threw  it  on  the 
ground.  The  noise  made  by  the  utensil  in 
failing  roused  the  pie-vender,  so  that  he 
was  thoroughly  awake  when  the  aids  re- 
entered  the  kitchen.  They  were  followed 
by  the  steward,  who  ordered  dinner  to  be 
served.  Then  addressing  the  young  man 
aloud  so  as  to  be  heard  by  all  he  said : 

"  Now,  my  boy,  let  me  see  your  pies.  I 
will  "buy  a  dozen,  for  the  Czar  may  like 
them." 

The  request  was  most  cheerfully  complied 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  13 

with.  Having  paid  him,  the  steward  ordered 
him  not  to  loiter  there  but  to  leave  at  once. 
He  did  not  wait  for  a  repetition  of  the  com- 
mand, but  withdrew  in  haste,  walking  rap- 
idly until  he  reached  the  corner  of  the 
street.  There  he  halted,  and  depositing  his 
half-empty  basket  on  the  ground,  began 
gayly  to  calculate  the  profit  of  his  morning 
sales. 

"  One,  two,  three,  four  roubles,"  he  said 
in  a  low  tone  to  himself.  "  Five  copeks, 
ten,  fifteen,  twenty."  Suddenly  stopping  in 
his  count  he  cried  aloud : 

"  Begone,  you  rogue  !  Stop  thief !  Oh, 
my  pies  !  "  Saying  these  words  he  sprang 
towards  a  dog,  which,  allured  by  the 
delicious  odor  of  the  contents  of  the 
basket,  had  thrust  his  nose  under  the  nap- 
kin and  seized  a  pie,  which  disappeared 
immediately  down  the  throat  of  the  animal. 
Seeing  that  it  was  impossible  to  prevent  his 
loss,  he  considered  it  a  useless  waste  of 
time  to  chastise  the  beast,  and  thought  it 
more  prudent  to  make  good  his  retreat  as 
soon  as  possible.  Therefore  he  hastened  to 
adjust  the  straps  of  his  basket,  but  the  poor 


14  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

boy  could  not  be  consoled  for  the  loss  he 
had  sustained.  "  Alas ! "  he  exclaimed, 
"  my  master  will  deduct  that  from  the 
amount  due  me,  and  I  shall  derive  no  bene- 
fit from  my  day's  labor.  What  will  my 
poor  mother  say  when  I  return  to  her 
empty-handed  ?  Oh,  the  rascal !  I  wish  he 
would  choke  this  very  instant ! "  This 
unchristian  malediction  was  apparently 
about  to  be  realized.  The  animal  at  first 
lay  motionless,  but  soon  began  to  writhe 
and  moan  as  though  suffering  intensely. 
His  moans  were  shortly  changed  into 
frightful  howls,  which  excited  the  compas- 
sion of  the  boy.  Many  of  those  who  were 
passing  by  stopped  to  inquire  what  was  the 
matter,  but  no  one  seemed  able  to  assign  a 
cause  for  the  terrible  convulsions  of  the 
poor  beast,  which  became  more  and  more 
violent  every  instant.  At  last  one  among 
the  crowd  said:  "The  dog  has  been  poi- 
soned." 

At  these  words  a  horrible  suspicion 
flashed  through  the  mind  of  the  young  man. 
True,  he  had  dozed  for  some  time  in  the 
kitchen  of  the  Lolopof  Palace,  but  his  sleep 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  1 5 

was  not  so  heavy  as  to  prevent  him  from 
noticing  the  deep  silence  which  succeeded 
the  departure  of  the  scullions.  He  recalled 
as  a  dream  a  whispered  conversation 
between  the  steward  and  the  head  cook, 
and  although  he  did  not  entirely  understand 
what  they  said,  his  ear  had  caught  a  few 
words  which  he  now  remembered  and  which 
excited  strange  suspicions.  Moreover,  he 
well  knew  that  the  Princess  Sophia,  vexed 
by  the  intellectual  superiority  of  her 
younger  brother,  Czar  Peter,  preferred  to 
him  her  feeble-minded,  sickly  brother  Ivan. 
Ambitious  and  designing,  she  contemplated 
leaving  in  his  hand  the  imperial  sceptre, 
but,  in  reality,  herself  exercising  the  sover- 
eign power.  A  certain  number  of  the 
nobility  entered  into  her  views.  The  idea 
then  might  naturally  arise  that  an  attempt 
had  been  made  to  make*way  with  the  young 
Czar  by  poison,  a  crime  not  unfrequent  in 
Russia  at  that  period.  The  thought  came 
like  an  inspiration  to  the  mind  of  the  pastry 
cook's  apprentice,  and  he  began  to  tremble 
for  the  life  of  his  imperial  patron ;  for  the 
dog  soon  expired  amid  atrocious  suffering. 


l6  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

It  was  with  a  voice  choked  by  deep  emo- 
tion that  he  related  to  the  ever-increasing, 
inquisitive  crowd  how  the  animal  had  died 
in  horrible  tortures  after  eating  a  pie  taken 
from  his  basket.  He  added  that  his  pies 
were  excellent ;  they  could  have  been  poi- 
soned only  in  the  kitchen  of  the  Lolopof 
Palace,  and  that  in  all  probability  some  had 
been  served  to  the  Czar  Peter.  He  conjured 
those  present  to  go  forthwith  to  notify  the 
young  Czar,  and  save  his  life  if  possible. 

At  these  words  there  arose  a  frightful 
tumult.  Every  instant  had  added  to  the 
numbers  collected  around  the  spot  where  the 
dog  lay,  and  as  if  moved  by  the  same  im- 
pulse, they  turned  their  steps  towards  the 
Lolopof  Palace.  Two  strong  men  of  gigan- 
tic stature  lifted  the  boy  with  his  basket, 
placed  him  on  their  shoulders,  and  headed 
the  procession.  The  rest  of  the  crowd,  arm- 
ing themselves  with  stones,  sticks  or  any 
such  weapon  as  came  to  hand,  followed  at  a 
rapid  pace,  swearing  that  if  any  injury  had 
been  inflicted  on  the  young  Czar,  they 
would  not  spare  a  creature  in  the  palace,  nor 
leave  one  stone  of  it  upon  another.  But 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  I/ 

Providence  had  watched  over  the  prince. 
Contrary  to  his  custom,  Peter,  at  the  very 
commencement  of  the  banquet,  had  entered 
upon  a  long  conversation  with  the  noblemen 
seated  near  him  at  table.  The  dish  contain- 
ing the  poisoned  pies  had  been  before  him 
for  some  time ;  and  his  hypocritical  host 
had  repeatedly  reminded  him  that  the  pastry 
was  getting  cold.  But  as  often  as  he 
extended  his  hand  to  the  dish,  a  remark  was 
made  which  interested  him  and  engaged  his 
attention.  At  last,  however,  to  the  delight 
of  Lolopof,  Peter  helped  himself  to  one  of 
the  pies,  and  was  on  the  point  of  conveying 
a  piece  which  he  held  on  his  fork  to  his 
mouth,  when  the  violent  uproar  of  the 
crowd  was  heard  under  the  palace  windows. 

"Czar  Peter!"  vociferated  hundreds  of 
voices,  "  where  are  you  ?  Show  yourself  to 
us  that  we  may  see  for  ourselves  that  you 
are  alive.  Beloved  Czar,  come  forth! 
Death  to  the  traitors  !  " 

At  these  words  Lolopof  became  as  pale 
as  a  corpse.  The  young  Czar  sprang  from 
his  seat  and  rushed  to  the  window,  followed 
by  all  the  guests.  When  the  multitude 


1 8  MENSHIKOFF; 

beheld  the  prince  their  joy  found  vent  in 
enthusiastic  shouts. 

"Hurrah,  hurrah  for  Czar  Peter!  Death 
to  the  poisoners  !  " 

Wholly  at  a  loss  to  understand  these 
menaces  the  Czar  beckoned  to  the  people  to 
keep  silence.  He  then  asked  : 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  What  do  you 
wish?" 

The  tumult  recommenced.  Some  began 
to  relate  what  had  happened,  others  to 
utter  threats.  All  clamored  at  the  same 
time  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  understand 
the  causes  leading  to  so  great  a  commotion. 
Every  hand,  however,  pointed  towards  the 
pie-vender,  who  was  trying  to  raise  his  voice 
above  the  confused  murmur  around  him. 

Smiling  at  the  strange  and  inexplicable 
scene,  the  Czar  addressed  one  of  his  aids: 

"  Lefort,"  he  said,  "go  and  inquire  the 
meaning  of  the  tumult.  Truly  it  is  a  confu- 
sion of  tongues.  Some  cry  '  Hurrah ! ' 
others  '  Pies  !  '  and  others  '  Poison  !  '  or 
'Death  and  Massacre!'  If  we  were  timid 
we  should  be  terrified." 

The   officer,   who    happened    to   be    the 


OR,    THE  PEASANT   PRINCE.  19 

same  who  had  liberated  the  apprentice-boy 
from  the  hands  of  the  Strelitzes,  was  about 
to  execute  the  orders  of  his  sovereign,  when 
he  met  on  the  staircase  the  head  of  the  col- 
umn, which  had  entered  the  palace  preceded 
by  the  two  men  bearing  on  their  shoulders 
the  young  pie-vender. 

"  What  can  be  the  cause  of  such  an 
uproar  ?  " 

Having  heard  the  details  of  all  that  had 
passed,  he  restored  calm  by  assuring  them 
that  the  Czar  had  not  touched  the  poisoned 
pies,  and  he  begged  them  to  disperse  quietly. 
But  the  multitude  refused  to  retire  until 
they  had  seen  Peter  return  to  the  imperial 
palace,  and  exacted  from  him  a  promise  to 
submit  the  affair  of  the  pies  to  a  -rigorous 
investigation,  and  to  punish  severely  those 
who  were  guilty. 


20  MENSHIKOFF  ; 


CHAPTER  II. 

COMMENCEMENT  OF  A  BRILLIANT  CAREER. 

IN  spite  of  the  promises  made  by  the 
young  Czar,  the  affair  was  hushed  up  from 
various  motives.  The  people  were  led  to 
believe  that  the  whole  was  a  mistake  on  the 
part  of  the  boy.  Nevertheless  the  chief 
cook  and  the  steward  of  Prince  Lolopof  dis- 
appeared. The  prince  himself  was  sent  in 
the  quality  of  ambassador  to  a  foreign 
court;  for  it  was  necessry  to  protect  him 
from  the  vengeance  of  the  citizens,  who 
persisted  in  suspecting  him  of  a  criminal 
attempt  upon  the  life  of  Peter.  In  reality, 
he  owed  his  escape  from  punishment  to  the 
intercession  of  the  Princess  Sophia,  to  whose 
influence  the  Czar  thought  it  more  prudent 
to  yield. 

He  was  convinced,  however,  that  he  was 
indebted  for  his  preservation  from  death  to 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  21 

the  little  pie-vender,  and  this  conviction 
was  for  him  the  foundation  of  a  brilliant  fu- 
ture, and  the  cause  of  the  dignities  and 
honors  which  were  lavished  upon  him. 

His  name  was  Alexander  Menshikoff,  and 
he  was  the  son  of  a  poor  peasant  of  the 
environs  of  Moscow.  He  had  pleased  the 
adjutant,  or  rather  the  intimate  friend  of 
the  Czar,  the  celebrated  Lefort,  who,  recog- 
nizing in  him  a  superior  intellect,  took  him 
in  his  service.  The  young  dependant  ac- 
quired daily  more  and  more  the  confidence 
and  affection  of  his  master,  to  whom  in  a 
short  time,  he  became  almost  indispensable. 

After  having  been  a  few  weeks  with 
Lefort,  Alexander  obtained  a  leave  of  ab- 
sence for  two  or  three  days  that  he  might 
pay  a  visit  to  his  mother:  his  father  had 
been  dead  several  years.  What  happiness 
he  experienced  in  relating  to  this  excellent 
woman  the  amelioration  of  his  condition  ! 

"Ah!  dear  Mother,  imagine  my  good 
fortune,"  he  said.  "Look  at  the  fine 
clothes  I  am  now  wearing ;  see  the  lace  and 
the  gilt  buttons.  But  these  are  nothing  to 
be  compared  to  the  splendid  coats  and 


22  MENSHIKOFF ; 

vests  which  pass  through  my  hands  when 
they  need  shaking  and  dusting.  And  how 
sweet  is  their  perfume  !  Very  different  from 
the  odor  of  the  pies  I  used  to  sell,  delicious 
as  they  were !  And  then  what  shall  I  tell 
you  of  the  table  at  my  new  master's?  Your 
cabbage  soup  is  not  half  so  good  as  the 
soup  they  serve  us  there.  But  better  than 
all  this,  I  am  every  day  in  the  presence  of 
the  Czar  Peter  and  the  great  lords  of  the 
Court.  Oh !  if  you  could  only  see  the 
palace  in  which  I  live!  There  is  gold 
wherever  you  turn :  the  dishes,  plates> 
chandeliers,  knives,  forks,  spoons,  even  the 
wash-basins  are  of  gold.  And  because  I 
informed  the  Czar  of  the  poisoned  pies,  he 
is  so  good  and  kind  to  me.  The  other  day, 
when  his  usual  valet  happened  not  to  be  at 
hand,  he  sent  me  for  his  court-dress.  Oh, 
Mother!  I  trembled  with  wonder  at  seeing 
in  my  hands  that  magnificent  coat,  which 
shone  with  diamonds.  Would  you  believe 
it?  The  smallest  of  the  jewels  was  worth 
more  than  all  the  houses  of  our  village,  the 
fields  and  meadows  together.  How  happy 
he  must  be  to  wear  so  costly  precious 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  23 

stones!  I  have  remarked,  however,  that 
ever  since  the  adventure  of  the  pies,  the 
the  Czar  has  become  distrustful.  He  is  very 
careful  not  to  eat  at  once  what  is  placed 
before  him.  Last  week,  the  Princess  Sophia 
sent  him  a  delicious  pie  and  some  tarts. 
He  did  not  so  much  as  touch  them.  Pie 
and  tart  all  fell  to  the  share  of  the  domes- 
tics. I  had  a  good  portion,  and  nearly  made 
myself  sick.  If  the  Czar  takes  a  fancy  to 
some  of  these  delicacies,  he  requires  me  to 
make  them  of  flour  which  I  myself  have  pur- 
chased from  the  first  dealer  I  find  conven- 
ient. These  grand  people  lead  a  strange 
life.  When  you  are  rising  in  the  morning 
to  begin  your  work,  they  are  just  going  to 
bed.  They  breakfast  at  the  hour  you  dine. 
In  the  evening  they  dine  and  remain  hours 
at  table,  and  God  knows  how  they  can  con- 
sume such  a  quantity  of  food. 

After  dinner  they  play  cards  until  morn- 
ing. This  is  their  usual  way  of  living. 
Neither  Lefort  nor  the  Czar  cares  to  pass  his 
time  in  this  manner,  and  they  only  do  so 
when  it  is  absolutely  necessary.  As  for  me, 
I  am  not  destined  to  be  a  servant  all  my 


24  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

life.  My  master  has  been  good  to  have  me 
taught  reading,  writing,  arithmetic,  French, 
and  many  other  things  of  which  you  have 
not  the  least  idea.  I  acknowledge  that  it  is 
harder  work  to  study  all  this  than  it  was  to 
sell  pies  in  the  street.  But  I  devote  myself 
willingly  to  my  books,  because  it  pleases 
General  Lefort,  and  besides  it  is  advanta- 
geous to  myself." 

As  he  said  these  words,  he  drew  from  his 
pocket  a  handful  of  gold  pieces  and  handed 
them  to  his  mother. 

"  This,  dear  mother,  is  a  very  small  por- 
tion of  the  large  debt  I  owe  you,  for  the 
affection  and  kindness  you  have  lavished 
upon  me  from  my  infancy.  I  can  never 
repay  you  ;  but  it  shall  ever  be  my  endeavor 
to  contribute  as  far  as  possible  to  your 
happiness." 

The  good  peasant  woman  was  moved  to 
tears  by  this  evidence  of  the  filial  devotion 
of  her  son.  She  gave  him  her  maternal 
benediction,  and  from  the  depths  of  her 
heart  prayed*  God  to  grant  him  success  in 
his  efforts  to  make  his  way  in  the  world. 

God  granted  her  petition.     Alexander  ad- 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  2$ 

vanced  daily  in  favor  with  his  master  and  the 
Czar :  to  both  he  gave  evidence  of  an  ever 
increasing  zeal,  devotion,  and  unalterable 
fidelity.  A  dependant  endowed  with  such 
qualities  is  seldom  found ;  consequently, 
upon  the  young  pie-vender  were  bestowed 
honors  and  dignities  in  no  small  measure. 

Scarcely  was  he  of  age  when  he  was  ele- 
vated to  the  office  of  secretary  to  the  Czar ; 
he  married  a  young  girl  named  Matinka,  of 
his  own  rank  in  life,  but  gifted  with  great 
good  sense  and  the  noblest  qualities  of  the 
heart.  Their  union  was  blessed  by  God, 
and  no  happiness  could  surpass  that  of  the 
young  imperial  scribe  when  he  took  posses- 
sion of  the  modest  frame  house  which  he  had 
built  at  Moscow  with  the  small  sum  he  had 
laid  by  from  his  wages,  and  where  he  gave  a 
home  to  his  mother,  from  whom  he  was  un- 
willing to  be  separated.  He  would  not  have 
changed  his  condition  with  the  Czar  himself, 
and  when  God  had  given  him  two  children,  a 
boy  and  a  girl,  his  happiness  was  at  its 
height ;  he  esteemed  no  lot  more  enviable 
than  his  own.  As  soon  as  he  arose  in  the 
morning,  at  noon  before  seating  himself  at 


26  MENSHIKOFF ; 

table,  and  in  the  evening  when  returning 
from  work,  his  first  thought  was  of  his  chil- 
dren. He  took  them  in  his  arms,  caressed 
them,  and  guided  their  tottering  steps  as 
they  learned  to  walk ;  every  day  he  carried 
them  some  toy  or  bon-bon.  In  return  they 
loved  him  with  all  the  devotion  of  which 
their  little  hearts  were  capable.  As  the 
mother  would  go  to  meet  him  after  his  day's 
work,  holding  the  baby  Helen  in  her  arms, 
the  child  would  clap  her  hands  and  scream 
with  joy.  Florent  would  spring  into  his 
arms  and  kiss  him  over  and  over  again. 
Matinka's  eyes  sparkled  with  delight,  and 
the  good  grandmother  completed  this  touch- 
ing picture  of  a  happy  home.  If,  as  it 
sometimes  happened,  one  of  the  children 
was  indisposed,  what  anxiety,  what  anguish 
he  experienced  !  He  arose  frequently  du- 
ring the  night  in  order  to  assure  himself  they 
were  not  seriously  ill.  He  would  pass  hours 
at  their  bedside.  On  Sundays  and  festivals 
it  was  a  delightful  recreation  to  the  family 
to  spend  a  few  hours  in  the  country,  with 
Matinka's  parents.  Not  one  thought  of 
envy  crossed  their  minds  as  they  saw  the 


OR,    THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  2/ 

rich  driving  by  them  in  their  magnificent 
equipage ;  theirs  was  the  greater  wealth, 
contentment  with  their  lot,  and  the  happi- 
ness of  loving  hearts. 


28  MENSHIKOFF; 


CHAPTER  III. 

GREATNESS   BEWILDERS. 

SUCH,  as  described  above,  was  the  happi- 
ness enjoyed  by  Menshikoff  for  many  years. 

At  last,  the  Czar,  who  appreciated  his  fine 
qualities,  elevated  him  to  the  rank  of  Coun- 
cillor. This  promotion,  which  should  have 
been  a  fortunate  event  for  his  family,  was 
the  cause  of  bitter  sorrow  to  Matinka.  The 
first  time  that  Menshikoff  returned  home  in 
the  splendid  court-dress  worn  by  the  Impe- 
rial Councillors,  Florent,  as  usual,  ran  joy- 
ously to  meet  him,  and  attempted  to  spring 
into  his  arms.  But  instead  of  caressing  the 
child  as  he  was  wont  to  do,  he  pushed  him 
away  roughly,  saying  in  an  angry  tone : 

"  What  a  rude  boy  you  are  !  your  soiled 
boots  will  spoil  a  suit  which  has  cost  me  a 
large  sum  of  money."  A  moment  after- 
wards he  said  more  gently  to  little  Helen 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  2g 

who  smilingly  extended  her  hands  to  him  : 
"  I  cannot  take  you  in  my  arms  ;  you  would 
rumple  the  frill  of  my  shirt,  and  tarnish  my 
buttons." 

"  And  will  you  also  refuse  to  embrace 
me  ?  "  asked  his  afflicted  wife. 

"  Certainly,  as  long  as  I  wear  this  fine  uni- 
form. But  have  a  little  patience  ;  wait  until 
I  put  on  my  ordinary  clothes." 

However,  when  he  returned,  after  laying 
aside  his  handsome  coat,  the  children,  re- 
pulsed by  his  salutation  on  entering,  were 
too  timid  to  approach  him,  and  even  the 
mother  could  not  embrace  her  husband  with 
the  same  unrestrained  affection,  now  that 
he  seemed  to  value  her  love  less  than  his 
court-suit.  Apparently,  he  did  not  notice 
the  change :  his  mind  was  preoccupied  with 
other  thoughts.  For  a  time  he  walked  up 
and  down  in  silence,  glancing  around  the 
room,  then  he  said : 

"  Our  furniture  must  be  replaced  by  other 
more  suitable  to  our  present  condition. 
Those  miserable  straw-chairs,  that  old  sofa, 
the  chest  of  drawers,  the  broken  looking- 
glass,  can  no  longer  remain  here,  nor  can  we 


30  MENSHIKOFF ; 

in  future,  use  earthenware  dishes,  iron  forks 
and  pewter  spoons.  An  Imperial  Councillor 
requires  a  service  of  porcelain,  and  silver- 
plate." 

"And  yet  we  were  very  happy  with  our 
simple  furniture,  our  earthenware  dishes,  and 
pewter  spoons,"  replied  Matinka  gently,  but 
somewhat  reproachfully.  "Shall  we  increase 
our  happiness  by  introducing  luxury  into 
our  home?" 

"  That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  said 
Menshikoff.  "  Our  happiness  is  not  in  ques- 
tion. We  are  simply  considering  the  re- 
quirements of  our  new  position." 

Having  said  this,  or  rather  muttered  the 
words  to  himself,  he  remained  a  few  mo- 
ments absorbed  in  thought.  Then,  as  if  hav- 
ing come  to  a  determination,  he  approached 
the  window,  threw  open  the  blind,  and 
accosted  a  Jew  who  happened  to  be  passing 
at  the  time. 

"Hollo !  my  friend,  stop !  I  want  to  speak 
with  you." 

But  whether  it  was  that  the  Jew  did  not 
hear  him  call,  or  whether  he  did  not  care  to 
answer,  he  passed  on  quietly  without  notic- 
ing Menshikoff. 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  3 1 

"  The  saucy  fellow !  "  exclaimed  the  Im- 
perial Councillor,  purple  from  rage.  "  He 
does  not  condescend  even  to  look  towards 
me.  Of  course,  he  takes  me  for  a  cheesemon- 
ger, and  does  not  suspect  that  such  a  house 
as  this  is  the  residence  of  a  Councillor  of  his 
Majesty,  the  Emperor,  or  certainly  he  would 
not  so  coolly  disregard  a  request  to  enter. 
But  a  change  must  be  made.  What  man  of 
respectability  would  be  willing  to  climb  our 
rough  staircase,  and  enter  a  room  of  which 
the  ceiling  is  so  low  that  one  can  scarcely 
stand  erect  without  striking  it  with  his  head  ? 
And  then  what  possibility  is  there  of  sus- 
pending in  it  a  chandelier,  or  hanging  curtains 
at  windows  which  strongly  resemble  those  of 
a  cabin  on  board  of  a  vessel !  We  must,  at 
once,  procure  another  house.  That  is  an 
absolute  necessity." 

"  My  dear  son,"  said  his  old  mother,  "  hear 
what  I  have  to  say.  Remain  in  the  house 
where  you  have  tasted  pleasures  so  pure  and 
unalloyed.  Believe  me,  happiness  does  not 
dwell  in  palaces.  They  are  the  abodes  of 
treachery  and  death ;  the  affair  of  the  pois- 
oned pies  teaches  this  truth.  As  for  myself, 


32  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

my  happiest  days  were  passed  in  the  village 
hut.  It  was  only  my  love  for  you  which  in- 
duced me  to  leave  it.  Now  that  I  have  be- 
come accustomed  to  our  home  here,  must  I 
be  forced  to  abandon  the  spot  I  have  learned 
to  value  for  your  sake,  to  dwell  in  the  large 
and  comfortless  rooms  of  a  lordly  mansion  ! 
It  would  cause  my  death,  because  it  would 
be  the  knell  of  my  happiness." 

"And  besides,"  continued  Matinka,  "  how 
dear  to  me  are  all  the  objects  which  surround 
us.  What  sweet  recollections  of  past  joys 
they  awaken  !  Do  you  not  remember,  my 
beloved  husband,  that  on  the  day  of  our  mar- 
riage we  drank  to  our  future  from  that 
earthen  mug  with  the  blue  band  around  the 
edge  ?  Those  delft  dishes  and  plates  were  a 
bridal  present  offered  me  by  my  companions. 
And  you  have  not  forgotten  that  the  chest 
of  drawers  was  a  wedding  gift  made  you  by 
your  old  friends?" 

Alexander  seemed  lost  in  thought  for  a 
few  moments,  then  rousing  himself,  he  said 
to  his  old  mother: 

"  Mother,  you  are  right.  It  would,  indeed 
be  a  cruelty  to  remove  you  from  a  spot 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  33 

which  long  habit  has  endeared  to  you. 
Therefore,  remain  here.  This  house,  hence- 
forth, belongs  to  you." 

Then  addressing  his  wife>  lie  said : 

"  Matinka,  the  old  furniture  and  utensils 
will  still  remind  us  of  the  happy  years  we 
have  passed  together,  and  the  recollection 
of  them  will  be  renewed  every  time  we  come 
to  visit  our  dear  mother.  I  shall  not  sell  a 
single  article." 

"Then  you  intend  to  separate  from  me?" 
exclaimed  the  old  woman.  "  I  shall  no 
longer  see  my  grandchildren  around  me  ? 
O  my  God !  Can  it  be  that  he  is  ashamed  of 
his  poor  mother,  now  that  he  has  been  ele- 
vated to  so  high  a  rank  ?  " 

"  Dear  mother,  how  can  you  entertain 
such  a  thought !  It  was  my  love  for  you 
which  suggested  the  proposition  I  have  just 
made.  If  the  plan  I  propose  is  not  agreeable 
to  you,  come  with  us.  The  spacious  and 
lofty  apartments  of  our  future  dwelling,  with 
their  immense  windows  and  their  superb 
furniture,  will  naturally  appear  strange  to 
you.  But  I  can  easily  relieve  you  of  any  un- 
comfortable feeling  you  might  thus  experi- 
3 


34  MENSHIKOFF  J 

ence.  We  can,  I  am  sure,  find  a  retired  and 
quiet  little  room,  to  which  you  could  with- 
draw occasionally  when  persons  of  rank  come 
to  visit  us.  Therefore,  dear  mother,  make 
your  choice.  Make  our  house  your  home,  if 
agreeable  to  you  ;  if  you  prefer  it,  you  are 
free  to  remain  here,  and  in  that  case,  the 
children  shall  visit  you  every  day.  You  shall 
have  a  servant  whose  only  occupation  shall 
be  to  attend  to  your  wants." 

As  she  listened  to  his  words,  tears  flowed 
down  the  cheeks  of  the  poor  woman. 

"Ah!"  she  said,  sobbing  aloud,  "the 
hands  of  a  mercenary  are  not  like  those  of  a 
child.  When  you  were  small,  I  would  not, 
for  the  whole  world,  have  confided  you  to  the 
care  of  another,  and  I  did  hope  than  at  my 
last  hour,  the  hands  of  my  son  would  close 
my  eyes.  But — '  Here  sobs  choked  her  ut- 
terance. No  one  had  the  courage  to  speak, 
not  even  Menshikoff,  who  seemed  deeply 
moved. 

Recovering  after  a  while  from  her  emotion, 
the  old  mother  resumed  :  "  But  when  the 
hour  of  my  death  arrives,  my  lips  will,  in 
vain,  murmur  the  name  of  my  son  ;  in  vain 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  3$ 

shall  I  extend  my  trembling  hand  to  grasp 
his  in  a  last  farewell." 

"  Mother,  dear  mother,  stop,  I  implore 
you,"  exclaimed  her  son,  beside  himself 
with  emotion.  "  You  break  my  heart. 
Away  with  those  worthless  honors  which 
bring  sorrow  to  my  mother's  heart.  Be 
consoled,  dear  mother.  I  will  supplicate 
the  Emperor  to  restore  me  to  my  original 
condition ;  for,  I  wish  evef  to  be  to  you  a 
grateful  and  devoted  son.  And  yet,  I 
thought  my  preferment  would  give  you 
pleasure." 

"No,  no,"  interrupted  the  good  old 
woman,  as  she  wiped  away  her  tears.  "  No, 
I  do  not  wish  that.  Retain  the  high  posi- 
tion conferred  on  you  by  the  Czar,  and  re- 
ceive with  gratitude  the  favors  he  bestows 
upon  you.  God  wills  it.  I  will  accept 
with  resignation  all  the  sacrifices  this  will 
impose  on  me.  Do  then,  my  child,  what- 
ever you  consider  right  and  best." 

For  some  moments  Menshikoff  seemed 
restless  and  undecided.  Then  he  ex- 
claimed : 

"That  cannot  be.     If  I  remain  Imperial 


36  MENSHIKOFF ; 

Councillor,  I  shall  be  necessarily  compelled 
to  take  a  house  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
palace,  where  in  my  own  apartments  I  can 
attend  to  the  duties  of  my  office  without 
interruption.  Far  better  then  will  it  be  for 
me  not  to  undertake  duties  which  would 
cost  so  dear." 

"  No,  no,"  replied  his  mother,  eagerly. 
"  I  have  been  too  exacting  and  anxious 
without  cause.  Forget  what  I  said,  and 
fulfil  the  duties  of  your  charge." 

"  I  shall  abide  by  your  decision,"  replied 
the  son,  delighted  by  the  words  just  ad- 
dressed to  him.  "  In  truth,  your  view  of 
the  affair  was  too  gloomy.  Let  us  then  be 
again  cheerful  and  happy,  accepting  the 
good  fortune  which  may  present  itself  to 
us." 

Turning  to  Matinka  he  said : 

"  Take  this  money,  my  dear  Matinka,  and 
buy  some  wine,  the  very  best,  and  long 
live  the  excellent  Czar !  We  must  drink  his 
health  at  dinner." 

At  table,  however,  a  new  annoyance 
awaited  the  poor  Matinka.  She  had  pre- 
pared in  the  best  possible  manner  the 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  37 

dishes  of  which  she  knew  her  husband  was 
fond  ;  but  instead  of  eating  of  them  with 
appetite,  he  barely  touched  them  to  his  lips. 

"  Is  not  the  food  seasoned  to  your 
taste?  "  she  asked  anxiously.  "  Or  is  there 
anything  else  you  would  like  to  make  them 
palatable  ?  " 

Menshikoff  was  much  embarrassed.  He 
answered  hesitatingly : 

"  Do  not  be  angry,  my  dear  wife.  Your 
dinners  were  always  excellent,  and  the  sim- 
ple fare  suited  our  former  condition,  but 
now  that  we  are  in  a  more  elevated  rank,  it 
does  not  become  us  to  keep  the  table  of  a 
peasant.  In  future,  I  desire  four  or  five 
courses  every  day.  Besides,  it  is  beneath 
the  dignity  of  the  wife  of  an  Imperial  Coun- 
cillor to  pass  her  time  in  the  kitchen  pre- 
paring the  meals  and  cleaning  the  cooking 
utensils.  I  intend  to  engage  a  cook  to  do 
the  work  for  you." 

These  remarks  fell  like  a  thunderbolt 
upon  Matinka.  She  had  always  prided  her- 
self upon  her  cooking,  and  had  studied  her 
husband's  tastes  in  the  preparation  of  the 
food  ;  his  appreciation  of  her  efforts  and 


38  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

his  compliments  upon  her  success,  had  ever 
been  a  sweet  recompense  for  the  daily  toil 
entailed  upon  her  by  their  humble  condi- 
tion. Consequently,  both  her  self-love  and 
affections  were  wounded,  when  she  found 
that  he  was  willing  to  commit  to  the  hands 
of  a  hireling,  that  duty  which  had  been  her 
delight  because  it  contributed  to  his  gratifi- 
cation. However,  she  made  no  reply,  but 
with  tearful  eyes  drank  the  wine,  which  in- 
stead of  rejoicing  her  heart,  filled  it  with 
bitterness. 

From  that  time  the  happiness  of  the 
Menshikoff  family  diminished  daily;  nor 
were  they  compensated  for  its  loss  by  the 
luxuries  of  their  new  home,  which  pleased 
the  eye,  but  did  not  satisfy  the  heart. 
When  the  Imperial  Councillor  removed  to 
his  handsome  residence  near  the  palace  of 
the  Czar,  his  mother  did  not  accompany 
him,  but  continued  to  occupy  the  modest 
frame  building  which  had  so  long  sufficed 
for  their  simple  desires. 

Two  footmen,  a  coachman,  a  cook,  and 
two  waiting  maids  were  engaged  ;  a  carnage 
and  two  horses  were  purchased. 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  39 

This  addition  to  their  household  was  the 
cause  of  much  trouble  to  poor  Matinka. 
Hitherto,  her  only  care  had  been  to  watch 
over  her  children  and  to  correct  the  little 
faults  common  to  their  age; "now,  she  had 
daily  new  difficulties  to  contend  with.  At 
one  time  she  was  forced  to  reprove  the 
carelessness  of  the  servants ;  again,  their 
dishonesty ;  some  stole,  others  wasted  the 
store  of  provisions,  whilst  others  gave  bad 
example  to  the  children. 

At  first,  Menshikoff  never  failed  to  visit 
his  mother  every  day.  Then  his  multiplied 
occupations  furnished  him  an  excuse  for 
.going  less  frequently,  until,  by  degrees  he 
ceased  his  visits  entirely.  Matinka  and  the 
two  children  kept  their  word,  and  endeav- 
ored by  their  affectionate  attentions  to  con- 
sole her  for  the  loss  of  her  son's  society,  and 
indemnify  her,  as  far  as  possible,  for  his 
neglect. 

The  time  which  the  father  had  been  ac- 
customed to  devote  to  his  family  became 
also  gradually  less.  Often  on  his  return 
from  the  palace,  he  was  in  an  ill  humor ;  for 
the  Czar,  being  hasty  and  quick  tempered, 


4O  MENSHIKOFF ; 

was  not,  on  all  occasions  considerate  of  his 
Councillor ;  he,  on  the  other  hand,  was  not 
willing  to  tolerate  what,  as  servant,  copyist 
and  secretary,  he  had  endured  patiently ; 
and  not  daring  to  testify  to  his  master  the 
irritation  he  really  felt,  the  whole  weight  of 
his  displeasure  fell  on  his  unoffending 
family.  As  often  as  he  returned  home  in 
such  a  disposition,  the  children  trembled 
and  kept  out  of  his  way,  whilst  Matinka 
would  greet  him  affectionately,  and  en- 
deavor, by  her  caresses,  to  calm  the  storm 
which  seemed  ready  to  expend  itself  upon 
the  innocent  little  creatures  whom  he 
should  have  sheltered  from  every  evil.  He 
often  remained  the  entire  day  shut  up  in  his 
study,  when  even  his  wife  dared  not  enter 
for  any  purpose  whatever.  He  was  fre- 
quently absent  from  home  in  the  evening, 
returning  late  at  night  in  a  state  of  intoxi- 
cation. If  it  happened  that  he  lost  heavily 
at  cards — not  an  uncommon  occurrence — he 
vented  his  ill  humor  by  inflicting  on  his 
family  every  kind  of  annoyance  which  cir- 
cumstances would  suggest.  The  only  relax- 
ation allowed  Matinka  was  an  occasional 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  41 

drive  ;  she  was  forced  to  discontinue  the 
visits  she  had  been  accustomed  to  make  her 
parents  every  Sunday.  She  now  saw  them 
only  by  stealth,  to  avoid  exciting  her  hus- 
band's anger. 


42  MENSHIKOFF ; 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  PATRONAL  FEAST. 

THE  festival  of  the  patron  saint  of  the 
father  of  a  family  is  celebrated  in  Russia 
with  peculiar  solemnity,  and  this  pious  cus- 
tom had  been  religiously  observed  in  the 
house  of  Menshikoff.  On  every  anniver- 
sary, Matinka  had  always  contrived  an 
agreeable  surprise  for  her  husband.  But 
now  she  was  wholly  at  a  loss  what  to  devise 
for  one  who,  blinded  by  pride  and  ambi- 
tion, was  a  total  stranger  to  the  influences 
of  the  simple  joys  of  home.  She  tortured 
her  imagination  without  result.  He  him- 
self, however,  relieved  her  anxiety.  Two 
weeks  before  the  day,  he  said  in  an  affec- 
tionate manner  to  which  she  had  long  been 
unaccustomed : 

"  Dear  Matinka,  you  can  do  me  a  great 
favor  on  my  Saint's  day." 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  43 

"  Tell  me,  dear  Alexander,"  she  replied 
joyously,  "  in  what  way  I  can  contribute  to 
your  pleasure?  I  shall  be  too  happy  to 
carry  out  your  wishes." 

"  I  desire  to  give  a  dinner  to  my  aristo- 
cratic acquaintances.  I  have  feared  for 
some  time,  that  we  might  be  suspected  of 
avarice  because  we  do  not  entertain  our 
friends.  I,  therefore,  beg  you  to  prepare 
for  a  grand  dinner  on  my  Saint's  day,  to 
which  we  will  invite  the  elite  of  Moscow. 
Your  toilette  must  be  suitable  to  the  oc- 
casion and  to  a  lady  of  your  rank.  I  shall 
order  what  is  necessary  for  you.  Be- 
sides"— 

Here  he  suddenly  stopped,  as  if  ashamed 
to  express  his  idea  fully. 

"  What  more,  dear  Alexander  ?    Tell  me." 

"You  are  an  excellent  woman,  good, 
beautiful  ....  you  are  a  pious,  devoted 
mother,  a  superior  housewife  ;  but,  but — " 

"Speak  out  candidly,  I  pray  you,  my 
dear  husband,"  said  his  wife  with  anxiety. 

"You  are  deficient  in  one  thing  .... 
you  are  ignorant  of  the  etiquette  of  society; 
your  manners  are  not  those  of  a  lady  of 


44  MENSHIKOFF ; 

rank.  If  wanting  in  this  respect,  in  vain 
will  a  woman  possess  a  noble  heart  and  be 
gifted  with  more  than  ordinary  intellect ; 
she  will  certainly  be  an  object  of  ridicule. 
To  persons  elevated  in  the  social  scale,  friv- 
olous conversation  and  exaggerated  compli- 
ments are  more  agreeable  than  simplicity  of 
language  and  sincerity.  You  are  a  real  dia- 
mond, a  priceless  jewel  to  me :  but  on  ac- 
count of  your  extreme  modesty,  you  are  to 
others  a  diamond  in  the  rough.  I  cannot 
tell  you  how  it  pains  me  to  see  that  you 
are  not  properly  appreciated  outside 
your  family.  But  a  little  practice  will  soon 
remedy  the  only  defect  I  find  in  you." 

"Tell  me  what  I  must  do  to  relieve  you 
of  this  vexation." 

"  I  shall  engage  the  French  dancing  mas- 
ter, Mr.  Genou,  to  give  lessons  to  our  Flor- 
ent,  and  teach  him  how  to  bow,  to  hold 
himself  gracefully,  and  to  join  in  the  chit- 
chat of  a  drawing-room.  You  will  be 
present  at  his  lessons,  and  I  wish  you  to 
repeat  afterwards  by  yourself  all  you  have 
learned.  A  few  days  before  the  dinner,  we 
will  rehearse  all  together  what  has  been 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  45 

acquired  from  Mr.  Genou,  and  I  am  confi- 
dent that  every  thing  will  pass  off  to  our 
satisfaction." 

With  a  heavy  sigh  Matinka  promised  to 
comply  with  her  husband's  request. 

In  the  afternoon  the  dancing  master  ar- 
rived, and  poor  Florent  commenced  the  in- 
structions so  distasteful  to  him.  He  was 
made  to  walk  the  floor  as  stiff  a  sentinel,  to 
bow  over  and  over  again  to  the  right  and 
left,  to  salute  repeatedly  empty  chairs  and 
divans.  New  directions  were  given  at  every 
instant.  "  Hold  yourself  straight !  Throw 
back  your  shoulders  !  Keep  your  head  up  ! 
Don't  drag  your  feet  upon  the  floor! 
Turn  your  toes  out !  Don't  swing  your 
arms !  Make  a  bow !  Lower — not  so  low  !  " 

The  child  soon  became  disgusted  with 
these  exercises  and  wept  bitterly.  But  it 
made  no  difference;  he  was  forced  to  submit 
to  the  torture  inflicted  by  Mr.  Genou.  The 
following  day  he  was  made  to  stand  upon  a 
board,  so  arranged  as  to  keep  the  toes 
turned  out,  and  he  had  much  difficulty  in 
preserving  his  balance. 

But  these  exercises  were  far  more  painful 


46  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

to  Matinka.  Her  husband  superintended 
them,  and  scolded  the  poor  woman  un- 
mercifully every  time  she  made  a  mistake, 
or  went  through  an  exercise  awkwardly. 
How  frequently  in  her  own  mind  she 
contrasted  her  past  life,  at  no  very  distant 
period,  when  she  was  happy  in  her  humble 
home  with  her  husband's  love,  with  her 
present  grandeur  and  the  unmeaning 
ceremonies  to  which  he  was  striving  to 
habituate  her. 

But  her  trials  did  not  end  here.  For 
several  days  the  tables  and  chairs  were 
strewn  with  silks,  velvets,  laces  and  other 
dress  materials,  from  which  she  was  directed 
to  make  her  selection.  Afterwards  came 
the  mantua-maker,  shoemaker,  and  jew- 
eller, the  last  offering  for  her  choice  the 
most  magnificent  sets  of  diamonds  and  other 
precious  stones.  The  gold  pieces  disap- 
peared as  readily  as  though  their  garden 
were  traversed  by  the  Pactolus. 

When  the  mantua-maker  tried  on  her 
new  dress,  a  deep  blush  crimsoned  Matin- 
ka's  cheeks  as  she  turned  to  her  husband 
and  asked : 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  47 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  appear  before  com- 
pany in  so  immodest  an  attire  ?  " 

Menshikoff  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
replied :  "  You  will  soon  become  accus- 
tomed to  it ;  fashion  requires  it." 

Although  deeply  wounded,  she  was  silent, 
but  when  her  maid  began  to  tighten  the 
corsets  which  had  been  brought  her,  she 
could  not  restrain  herself  and  involuntarily 
exclaimed  :  "  Stop,  stop  !  I  cannot  breathe 
in  this  whalebone  case  ;  you  stifle  me !" 

"  You  must  submit,"  said  Menshikoff,  in 
an  imperious  manner.  "Elegance  requires 
it.  If  corsets  produced  suffocation,  very 
many  women  would  die  every  day." 

The  poor  creature  patiently  permitted 
herself  to  be  encased  in  what  was  to  her  an 
instrument  of  torture.  When  the  maid  com- 
pleted her  dress  by  adjusting  to  it  an  enor- 
mous pannier,  Matinka  declared  that  it  would 
be  impossible  for  her  to  enter  the  door. 

"  Then  pass  through  sideways,"  replied 
Menshikoff,  who  had  an  expedient  ready  for 
every  objection. 

Finally,  they  forced  upon  the  feet  of  the 
unfortunate  woman  a  pair  of  shoes  much  too 


48  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

narrow  for  her,  of  which  the  heels  were  so 
high  that  she  was  in  danger  of  falling  at 
every  step.  Seeing  that  his  wife  was  vainly 
endeavoring  to  conceal  the  suffering  she  was 
enduring,  Menshikoff  attempted  to  console 
her  by  saying : 

"  Have  a  little  patience,  my  dear  wife. 
This  will  not  last  long.  After  the  dinner 
party,  you  may,  if  you  choose,  resume  the 
dress  which  is  most  comfortable  to  you  and 
to  which  you  are  accustomed." 

"  Tell  me,  if  you  can,"  replied  Matinka, 
"  what  brain  ever  imagined  all  these  silly 
things  which  seem  to  have  been  invented 
only  to  deform  and  render  ridiculous  the 
work  of  God." 

"  I  will  solve  the  enigma  for  you,  said 
Menshikoff  smiling.  "  A  very  small  woman 
who  wished  to  appear  tall  invented  high 
heels  and  the  arrangement  of  the  hair  on  the 
top  of  the  head.  A  stout  woman,  envying 
her  friends  their  slender  and  elegant  forms, 
hoped  to  become  like  them  by  wearing  the 
corset,  or  rather  a  case  of  steel  and  whale- 
bone. Another  attempted  to  conceal  her 
age,  betrayed  by  the  gray  which  streaked 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  49 

her  hair,  by  the  use  of  powder,  and  flattered 
herself  that  a  covering  of  paint  on  her  faded 
cheeks  would  restore  to  them,  in  appearance 
at  least,  the  freshness  of  youth,  and  so  with 
the  rest." 

"  But  is  there  any  reason  why  I,  who  am 
neither  too  short  nor  too  stout,  who  am  not 
faded  and  gray,  should  adopt  so  preposter- 
ous a  style  of  dress  ?  " 

"  Fashion  requires  it,  my  dear  Matinka,  as 
I  have  already  told  you,"  replied  Menshikoff. 

"  And  what  do  you  mean  by  fashion,  which 
is  powerful  enough  to  enforce  decrees  so  ty- 
rannical?" 

Menshikoff  left  the  question  unanswered  ; 
for,  he  knew  not  how  to  define  fashion,  that 
blind  spirit  of  imitation  which  influences  all 
men. 

At  last,  the  preparations  for  the  great  day 
were  completed.  The  guests  were  invited, 
the  rooms  were  decorated  ;  the  wine-cellar 
and  store-rooms  were  stocked. 

The  day  before  the  dinner,  Matinka  was 
obliged  to  undergo  an  examination  by  her 
husband  of  all  she  had  learned,  and  to  prac- 
tise in  his  presence  the  part  she  was  to  enact 
4 


50  MENSHIKOFF ; 

before  his  guests.  It  is  scarcely  credible 
that  so  intelligent  a  man  as  Menshikoff 
would  condescend  to  anything  so  pueVile. 
And  yet,  the  man  who  could  with  difficulty 
spare  a  few  moments  daily  from  the  duties 
of  his  office  to  devote  to  his  family,  passed 
several  hours  for  two  days  in  forming  his 
wife  to  frivolous  customs,  and  to  all  the  silly 
and  absurd  compliments  which  constitute 
the  conversation  of  what  is  called  high  so- 
ciety. 

Instructing  her,  he  said :  "  Imagine,  that  I 
am  a  lady  of  rank,  one  of  the  invited  guests : 
I  enter  the  reception  room  to  pay  my 
respects  to  you  ;  you  return  my  salutation 
cordially,  saying  that  you  are  happy  to  see 
me,  having  desired  for  a  long  time  to  make 
my  acquaintance." 

"  But,"  interrupted  Matinka,  "  that  is  not 
true ;  I  should  tell  a  falsehood  were  I  to  use 
such  language." 

"  My  dear,  you  must  tell  a  falsehood," 
replied  Menshikoff.  "  That  is  the  custom 
of  good  society.  People  always  say  they  are 
most  happy  to  meet  those  whom,  in  their 
hearts,  they  would  wish  at  the  antipodes. 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  5 1 

They  are  most  affectionate  and  complimen- 
tary to  persons  for  whom  they  in  reality 
feel  the  greatest  aversion.  This  constitutes 
the  politeness  of  the  world  of  fashion." 

The  candid,  loyal  heart  of  Matinka  was 
unable  to  comprehend  the  explanation  given 
her.  However,  she  rehearsed  her  part  to  the 
best  of  her  ability,  in  order  to  give  pleasure 
to  her  husband.  Nevertheless,  he  found 
much  to  censure :  her  courtesy  was  too 
low  or  too  stiff ;  now  she  spoke  too  loud, 
again,  not  loud  enough,  and  thus  the 
farce  terminated  without  satisfying  Men- 
shikoff. 

The  approach  of  her  husband's  Saint's  day 
had  formerly  been  a  cause  of  simple  and 
pure  joy  to  Matinka  ;  she  now  anticipated  it 
with  deep  anxiety,  reflecting  upon  the  part 
she  was  expected  to  enact  before  strangers. 
On  the  eve  she  had  a  high  fever,  and  did 
not  sleep  the  entire  night. 

Early  in  the  morning  the  hair-dresser  ar- 
rived. He  burned,  scorched  and  cut  the 
beautiful  hair  of  the  poor  woman.  For  a 
half  hour  he  brushed  and  combed  it,  and 
when  he  considered  it  sufficiently  pliant,  he 


52  MENSHIKOFF ; 

placed  upon  her  head  a  high  frame  of  horse- 
hair around  which  he  wound  her  own  hair 
which  he  had  previously  plaited,  the  whole 
being  kept  in  place  by  silver  pins.  Over 
this  enormous  pile  he  sprinkled  white  powder 
and  completed  her  disfiguration  by  conceal- 
ing the  natural  bloom  of  her  cheeks  under  a 
layer  of  paint.  The  violent  headache  in- 
duced by  the  arranging  of  her  hair  was 
considerably  increased  after  she  was  encased 
in  the  corsets  and  her  feet  were  forced  into 
the  narrow  shoes.  Although  to  these  suffer- 
ings was  added  mental  anxiety,  she  was 
obliged  to  feign  a  happiness  to  which  she 
was  a  stranger. 

The  company  began  to  arrive,  and  the 
folding-doors  of  the  spacious  apartments 
were  thrown  open.  Menshikoff  appeared  in 
his  court-dress.  He  anxiously  watched  Ma- 
tirika,  who  received  the  guests  in  a  manner 
which  agreeably  surprised  the  master  of 
the  house.  Her  natural  good  sense  and  in- 
telligence suggested  many  remarks  which 
rendered  her  conversation  pleasing.  Unfor- 
tunately for  her,  Menshikoff  heard  a  lady 
say  in  French  to  another :  "  Does  not  the 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  £3 

wife  of  the  Imperial  Councillor  look  like  a 
simpleton?  " 

On  hearing  these  words,  his  anger  was 
roused,  not  against  the  offending  visitor, 
but  against  his  innocent  wife,  and  his  eyes 
rested  on  her  with  such  an  expression  of 
rage,  that  she  trembled  like  a  leaf.  His  ill- 
humor  was,  happily,  diverted  by  the  en- 
trance of  the  two  children.  Florent  was 
dressed  exactly  like  his  father  and  formed 
a  charming  picture  with  his  powdered  wig 
and  black  silk  net,  his  blue  velvet  coat, 
richly  embroidered  vest,  his  short  breeches, 
silk  stockings,  gold  shoe  buckles  and 
his  tiny  sword  in  a  lacquered  leathern 
scabbard.  Helen,  although  only  four  years 
of  age,  was  attired  in  every  respect  similar 
to  her  mother.  The  guests  surrounded  the 
children  and  vied  with  each  other  in  admir- 
ing and  caressing  them.  Blinded  by  van- 
ity, Menshikoff  recovered  .from  the  blow 
just  inflicted  upon  his  self-love  and  forgot 
what  he  himself  had  told  his  wife  only  the 
previous  evening,  that  all  such  fine  words 
and  caresses  were  false  and  hypocritical. 

The  table  was  spread  most  sumptuously, 


54  MENSHIKOFF ; 

and  the  guests  did  justice  to  the  luxuries 
placed  before  them.  Course  succeeded 
course  with  royal  profusion.  The  rarest 
and  most  costly  wines  were  passed  around 
and  drunk  as  freely  as  they  drink  in  Russia. 
The  company  threw  off  the  reserve  which 
had  rendered  the  dinner  somewhat  formal, 
and  the  conversation  became  more  and 
more  animated.  In  the  midst  of  the  enter- 
tainment, the  door  of  the  dining-room  was 
opened,  and  an  old  woman,  very  simply, 
but  neatly  dressed,  was  about  to  enter,  but 
stopped  suddenly,  and  gazed  with  a  kind  of 
stupefaction  upon  the  brilliant  company  in 
whose  presence  she  unexpectedly  found 
herself.  This  woman  was  Menshikoff's 
mother. 

"  I  wish  to  see  my  son,"  she  said,  in  an 
agitated  manner.  "  Pardon  me,  but  does 
not  my  Alexander  still  live  here?  Have  I 
mistaken  the  house?" 

Upon  recognizing  his  mother,  Menshikoff 
turned  ashy  pale,  but  soon  recovering  his 
self-possession  he  arose  from  the  table. 

"My  good  woman,"  he  said,  with  forced 
affability  as  he  advanced  towards  her,  "  here 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  55 

I  am.  You  make  me  happy  in  coming  to 
see  me.  Follow  me,  we  will  converse  alone 
for  a  few  moments." 

As  he  thus  spoke,  he  gently  drew  the 
poor  woman  into  an  adjoining  apartment 
without  allowing  her  time  to  say  more. 
^Before  leaving  the  dining-room,  however,  he 
turned  towards  the  company  and  said : 

"  Permit  me,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  to 
absent  myself  for  a  short  time ;  I  wish  to 
speak  with  this  good  woman." 

"  It  only  needed  this  !  "  he  muttered  be- 
tween his  teeth  with  ill-concealed  anger  as 
he  offered  a  seat  to  his  mother.  But  sud- 
denly resuming  a  cheerful  countenance  he 
said : 

"You  are  welcome,  mother.  You  are, 
indeed,  kind  in  giving  me  the  pleasure  of  a 
visit." 

"  My  son,"  replied  the  old  woman,  "I  am 
very  feeble,  but  I  made  the  effort  to  drag 
myself  here  to-day  to  offer  you  my  best 
wishes  and  bestow  upon  you  my  maternal 
benediction.  It  is  true,  that  I  come  empty- 
handed,  but  my  heart  is  filled  with  the 
warmest  affection  for  you.  It  has  been  a 


56  MENSHIKOFF ; 

very,  very  long  time,  my  son,  since  I  have 
seen  you.  Therefore  you  must  pardon  me 
for  disturbing  you  at  such  a  moment.  It  is 
uncertain  if  I  shall  ever  again  be  able  to 
meet  you  in  your  own  home.  Had  I 
known,  however,  that  you  were  entertaining 
so  large  a  company — " 

"Dear  mother,"  interrupted  Menshikoff, 
"  I  am  grateful  to  you  for  your  affec- 
tionate remembrance  of  my  Saint's  day. 
I  would  gladly  have  invited  you  to  be 
present  at  our  little  dinner-party,  but  I 
was  aware  that  such  assemblies  were  dis- 
tasteful to  you.  I  hope  the  servants  have 
offered  you  refreshments  and  wine  ;  if 
not,  I—" 

"My  dear  Alexander,"  interrupted  his 
mother,  "that  was  not  my  object  in  com- 
ing. My  food  is  always  of  the  simplest 
kind.  All  I  desired  was  to  see  you,  to  be 
in  your  company." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Menshikoff,  with  embar- 
rassment, "I  am  forced  to  leave  you.  My 
duties  as  a  host  absolutely  require  me  to 
return  to  my  guests.  But  in  my  place  I 
will  send  my  wife  and  children." 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  $/ 

"Have  your  guests  just  arrived?"  asked 
the  mother. 

"  Oh,  no,  they  have  been  here,  at  least, 
four  hours." 

"  I  suppose  they  are  friends  to  whom 
you  are  under  obligations, "  continued  the 
old  woman. 

"  Yes.  I  have  been  acquainted  with 
some  of  them  six  months,  and  have  been 
invited  to  their  houses  perhaps  ten  times. 
Certainly  I  owe  them  some  return  for  such 
attentions." 

"  If  you  have  devoted  four  hours  to  per- 
sons whom  you  have  known  only  six 
months  and  who  have  invited  you  only  ten 
times  to  dinner,  it  seems  to  me  you  could 
spare  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  your  mother 
who  has  been  your  best  friend  for  thirty- 
two  years  and  who  supported  you  for  fifteen 
years,"  replied  the  old  woman  sternly. 

Menshikoff  fully  appreciated  the  extent 
of  his  ingratitude,  but  instead  of  seeking  to 
repair  the  wrong  of  which  he  had  been 
guilty,  he  manifested  still  more  clearly  his 
discontent  and  answered  coldly  : 

"  Mother,  I    am   sorry   to   leave   you.     I 


$8  MENSHIKOFF ; 

will  send  my  wife,  who  can  remain  with 
you  for  a  short  time,  better  than  I  can. 
But  I  hope  to  see  you  again  before  you 
leave." 

Saying  this,  he  returned  to  the  dining- 
room  without  waiting  for  an  answer. 

The  old  woman  did  not  attempt  to  follow 
him.  The  tears  which  flowed  down  her 
withered  cheeks  betokened  the  sorrow  of 
her  heart.  A  few  moments  afterwards  the 
door  opened  and  an  unknown  lady  in  full 
dress,  accompanied  by  two  children,  also  un- 
known, entered  the  room.  The  good  old 
woman  rose  respectfully,  but  Matinka  threw 
herself  in  her  arms,  and  the  children  clung 
to  her  exclaiming  joyously,  "  Grandmother ! 
dear  grandmother ! " 

When  Matinka  saw  her  mother-in-law  at 
the  door  of  the  dining-room,  her  first  im- 
pulse was  to  rush  to  welcome  her,  and  she 
made  a  quick  movement  to  rise  from  the 
table,  but  a  glance  from  Menshikoff  sufficed 
to  restrain  her,  eager  as  she  was  to  go.  She 
was  gratified  by  a  request  from  her  husband 
on  his  return  to  devote  a  few  minutes  to 
their  old  visitor. 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  59 

Menshikoff  was  immediately  overwhelmed 
with  questions  by  the  astonished  guests. 

"  Is  that  old  woman  really  your  mother?  " 
they  asked. 

"  No,  indeed,"  coolly  replied  the  Imperial 
Councillor.  "  My  excellent  mother  died 
long  ago.  The  good  woman  you  have  just 
seen  was  my  nurse,  and  still  retaining  her 
former  affection  for  me  she  continues  to 
regard  me  and  treat  me  as  her  child.  Why 
should  I  not  allow  the  poor  creature  that 
innocent  pleasure?  Do  you  not  think  I  am 
right  ?  " 

"Certainly,  certainly,"  they  all  replied. 
And  having  thus,  by  a  falsehood  relieved 
himself  from  the  embarrassment  caused  by 
the  appearance  of  his  mother,  the  ungrateful 
son,  ashamed  of  her  who  from  his  infancy 
had  lavished  upon  him  all  the  treasures  of  a 
boundless  affection,  thought  no  more  of  her. 

The  case  was  far  otherwise  with  Matinka 
and  her  children,  who  hastened  joyfully  to 
embrace  the  good  woman. 

As  she  examined  the  elegant  dress  of  her 
daughter-in-law,  the  mother,  shaking  her 
head  in  sign  of  disapprobation  said  : 


60  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

"  My  dear  child,  you  are  so  changed  I 
hardly  recognized  you.  I  love  Matinka  in 
her  simple  dress  far  more  than  Matinka 
transformed  into  a  great  lady.  I  dare  not 
approach  to  embrace  you." 

Matinka  replied  with  a  sigh  :  "  Do  you 
think  I  am  comfortable  with  this  pannier  of 
whalebones,  one  of  which  I  broke  as  I 
entered  the  door,  and  with  this  weight  on 
my  head  ?  What  pain  I  suffer  from  my 
tight  shoes  and  the  corsets  which  impede 
my  breath  !  I  am  also  mortified  to  appear 
with  painted  cheeks." 

The  children  were  equally  loud  in  their 
lamentations. 

"Look!"  cried  Florent,  with  a  comical 
expression  of  pain.  "  What  an  enormous  net 
they  have  fastened  to  the  back  of  my 
head!" 

As  he  spoke,  he  shook  his  head  so  vio- 
lently that  a  cloud  of  white  powder  fell  upon 
his  blue  velvet  coat. 

"  Why  !  "  exclaimed  the  grandmother  in 
astonishment,  "  how  does  it  happen  that  your 
hair  has  grown  so  much  in  so  short  a  time  !  " 

"It  is  all  false  hair,  grandmother ;  see," 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  6 1 

and  as  he  spoke,  the  boy  took  from  his  head 
the  borrowed  coif  and  presented  it  to  the 
amazed  old  woman. 

"  I  could  put  up  with  the  wig,"  he  added, 
"  if  they  had  given  me  a  real  sword.  But 
as  to  this,  it  is  nothing  but  an  empty  scab- 
bard attached  to  a  hilt." 

Throwing  the  wig  on  the  floor,  he  began 
to  thrust  his  mock  sword  against  Helen's 
whalebone  panier.  As  she  retreated,  he 
followed,  until  she  fell,  and  Florent,  losing 
his  balance,  rolled  over  her. 

At  this  moment  Menshikoff,  displeased 
by  his  wife's  long  absence,  re-entered  the 
room  to  request  her  to  return  to  the  com- 
pany. He  saw  the  children  struggling  on 
the  floor,  noticed  that  the  whalebone  of  his 
wife's  pannier  was  broken  and  that  it  had 
become  unfastened.  In  embracing  her 
mother-in-law,  a  portion  of  the  paint  had 
been  rubbed  from  her  cheek,  and  as  her 
tears  followed  another  portion  had  fallen 
upon  the  lace  of  her  dress.  This  did  not 
escape  his  eye,  and  sufficed  to  excite  his 
anger  to  such  a  degree  that  he  was  unable 
to  control  it.  He  roughly  seized  the  chil- 


62  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

dren,  boxed  them  and  pushed  them  aside  in 
no  gentle  manner.  Then  addressing  Matin- 
ka  in  a  voice  tremulous  from  passion,  he 
said : 

"Again  you  give  me  evidence  that  the 
copper  of  a  sous  can  never  be  converted 
into  the  silver  of  a  crown.  You  were  born 
a  peasant;  and  a  peasant  you  will  remain  all 
the  days  of  your  life.  You  can  now  stay 
where  you  are.  To  present  yourself  in  your 
present  condition  before  my  friends,  would 
be  a  convincing  proof  to  them  of  my  folly 
in  choosing  you  for  my  wife." 

Without  a  word  to  his  mother,  who  had 
in  vain  endeavored  to  check  his  unkind 
remarks,  he  returned  to  his  guests  with  a 
serene  countenance  and  said  calmly  : 

"  My  wife  requests  me  to  make  her 
excuses  to  you.  She  is  deeply  chagrined 
at  being  deprived  of  the  pleasure  of  your 
company,  but  a  sudden  attack  of  violent 
headache,  to  which  she  is  subject,  compels 
her  to  renounce  the  gratification  of  being 
with  you." 

People  of  fashion  have  often  recourse  to 
similar  falsehoods  in  order  to  rid  themselves 


OR,    THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  63 

of  an  importunate  or  disagreeable  visitor, 
and  as  the  individuals  assembled  around 
Menshikoff's  table  had  used  such  stratagems 
upon  different  occasions,  they  attached  no 
importance  to  the  deceit  he  had  practised. 
After  a  few  expressions  of  regret  for  the 
indisposition  of  his  wife,  the  gentlemen  con- 
tinued to  drink  their  wine  and  the  'ladies 
assumed  their  conversation. 

But  Menshikoff's  harsh  language  had 
sorely  afflicted  Matinka.  Never  before  had 
he  addressed  to  her  words  so  'bitter,  nor  re- 
proaches so  cruel.  Thus  then  was  she  recom- 
pensed for  exerting  herself  to  the  utmost  to 
play  the  part  of  a  great  lady,  and  for  having 
bade  adieu  to  all  the  innocent  joys  which 
had  formerly  constituted  her  happiness. 
She  suddenly  realized  her  situation,  and 
comprehended  that  the  tie  uniting  her  to 
her  husband  which  she  had  considered 
eternal,  might  be  dissolved.  Had  he  not 
expressed  his  regret  for  having  married  her  ? 
What  a  terrible  thought !  The  venerable 
grandmother  exerted  all  her  maternal  elo- 
quence to  calm  the  affliction  of  her 
daughter-in  law,  although  she  stood  so  much 


64  MENSHIKOFF ; 

in  need  of  consolation  herself.  They  wept 
bitterly,  mingling  their  tears  with  the  sobs 
of  the  children,  who  were  still  suffering  the 
effects  of  their  father's  harshness.  At  last, 
Matinka  exchanged  the  fine  dress  which  had 
caused  her  so  much  sorrow,  for  the  simple 
costume  which  recalled  the  happy  days  of 
her  peasant  life.  After  accompanying  her 
mother-in-law  to  her  modest  abode,  and  put- 
ting the  children  to  bed  she  retired  for  the 
night,  without,  however,  obtaining  either 
sleep  or  tranquillity  of  mind. 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  65 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  DEPARTURE  AND  THE  RETURN. 

NOT  long  after  the  dinner-party  there  oc- 
curred an  event  which,  apparently,  was  to 
restore  the  half-broken  tie  uniting  Menshi- 
koff  to  his  Matinka.  This  was  a  long  jour- 
ney he  was  to  undertake  with  his  master, 
the  Czar. 

This  young  prince,  destined  to  be  known 
in  history  under  the  name  of  Peter  the 
Great,  fully  comprehended  that  he  lacked 
the  acquirements  necessary  to  enable  him 
to  govern  wisely  and  to  civilize  a  great 
nation.  He,  therefore,  resolved  to  travel 
through  Europe  and  study  for  himself  the 
centres  of  civilization,  to  scrutinize  care- 
fully those  countries  in  which  he  should  find 
most  amply  developed  the  art  of  war,  ship- 
building, the  sciences  and  trades,  branches 
for  which  his  admiration  amounted  to  en- 


66  MENSHIKOFF ; 

thusiasm,  and  with  which  he  was  deter- 
mined at  any  price  to  endow  Russia,  being 
persuaded  that  by  these  alone  could  she  be 
elevated  in  the  scale  of  nations  above  the 
rank  she  now  occupied.  Concealing  his 
imperial  dignity  under  the  assumed  title  of 
a  member  of  the  legation  which,  according 
to  a  Russian  custom,  was  appointed  to  visit 
foreign  courts,  he  traversed  Esthonia  and 
Livonia,  at  that  time  subject  to  Sweden, 
Brandenbourg,  Hanover,  Westphalia,  and 
arrived  at  Amsterdam,  where  his  passion  for 
ship-building  induced  him  to  work  as  a  car- 
penter and  blacksmith.  He  even  caused 
himself  to  be  enrolled  at  Saardam  among 
the  laborers  employed  at  the  celebrated 
dock-yards  of  this  city.  He  accepted  an 
invitation  from  William  III.,  king  of  Eng- 
land, to  visit  London  ;  but  wearing  the 
dress  of  a  sailor  he  passed  the  greater 
part  of  the  time  in  inspecting  the  mari- 
time establishments  of  the  kingdom.  The 
University  of  Oxford  honored  him  by 
conferring  upon  him  the  degree  of  doc- 
tor. Having  stored  his  mind  with  every 
kind  of  useful  information,  he  returned 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  67 

home  to  found  the  prosperity  of  the  Rus- 
sian Empire. 

Menshikoff,  the  pastry  cook's  apprentice, 
by  his  intelligence,  acuteness  of  intellect, 
and  pliancy  of  character,  had  conciliated  the 
favor  of  the  young  Czar,  who  elevated  him 
to  the  post  of  Councillor  of  State,  and  desig- 
nated him  as  one  of  the  officers  who  were 
to  form  his  suite"  during  the  journey  he  was 
about  to  undertake. 

The  prospect  of  a  separation  from  his 
family  had  a  salutary  effect  upon  him,  reviv- 
ing his  former  affection.  He  behaved 
towards  his  mother,  his  wife  and  children 
with  the  same  gentleness  and  tenderness  as 
of  yore ;  was  solicitous  to  make  every 
arrangement  to  contribute  to  their  comfort 
and  enable  them  to  keep  up  the  establish- 
ment in  a  style  suitable  to  their  position. 
He  was  overcome  by  emotion  on  taking 
leave  of  his  family,  assured  them  he  would 
not  forget  them,  and  would  inform  them 
of  all  his  movements.  At  first,  he  kept 
his  promise  faithfully.  But  by  degrees  his 
letters  became  less  frequent,  either  because 
of  the  greater  distance,  or  an  increase  of  oc- 


68  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

cupation,  or  some  other  unexpected  obsta- 
cle. 

Immediately  after  the  departure  of  her 
husband,  Matinka  left  the  splendid  dwell- 
ing in  which  Menshikoff  had  taken  up  his 
abode,  returned  to  the  small  house  occu- 
pied by  her  mother-in-law,  and  devoted  her 
time  to  the  care  of  the  good  old  woman 
and  of  her  children,  for  whom  she  engaged 
preceptors  in  all  useful  branches  of  study. 
She  constantly  held  out  to  them  as  a  motive 
for  exertion,  the  pleasure  their  father 
would  experience  on  his  return  at  seeing 
their  improvement.  They  were  docile  to 
her  instructions,  and  gave  her  no  cause  for 
anxiety. 

The  old  grandmother,  however,  failed 
daily  in  health  and  strength.  Foreseeing 
that  her  death  must  be  near  at  hand,  she 
often  said  :  "  I  shall  never  again  see  my 
Alexander.  This  thought  would  make  me 
inconsolable,  were  it  not  for  the  hope  of 
being  reunited  with  him  in  eternity.  I 
have  lived  long  enough,  God  has  been  good 
to  me.  I  should  be  ungrateful  not  to  ac- 
knowledge this,  but  man  is  never  entirely 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  69 

satisfied,  and  I  have  ardently  desired  to  die 
in  the  arms  of  my  son.  Nevertheless,  God's 
will  be  done." 

Her  cherished  wish  was  not  gratified. 
Scarcely  three  months  had  passed  after  the 
departure  of  Menshikoff  when  she  was 
called  to  the  reward  of  her  well-spent  life. 
She  died  in  the  full  possession  of  her 
senses,  fortified  by  the  aids  of  religion,  and 
surrounded  by  her  daughter-in  law  and  her 
grandchildren. 

Matinka  had  returned  from  paying  the 
last  rites  to  the  dear  departed  one,  and 
deeply  dejected  by  the  loss  of  her  cherished 
mother,  she  was  talking  with  her  children  of 
her  and  of  their  absent  father,  when  the  door 
was  suddenly  opened,  a  lieutenant  of  the 
Strelitzes  entered,  and  threw  his  arms  around 
her. 

"  My  dear  sister ! "  he  exclaimed  to  the 
terrified  woman,  "  do  you  not  know  your 
brother?  Look  at  me;  it  is  indeed  my- 
self." 

"  Ah !  dear  Simonow ! "  she  said  in  a 
transport  of  joy,  "  I  did  not  recognize  you 
at  first.  But  how  does  it  happen  that  you 


70  MENSHIKOFF ; 

are  here  ?  I  feared  I  should  never  see  you 
again." 

"  I  have  been  admitted  among  the  Strelit- 
zes,  of  which  I  am  very  glad,  as  it  brings  me 
in  your  vicinity.  But  where  is  your  hus- 
band ?" 

As  she  was  relating  the  cause  of  Men- 
shikoff's  absence,  Simonow's  countenance 
clouded,  he  shook  his  head  in  sign  of  disap- 
probation and  said : 

"  Dear  Matinka,  you  are  not  the  only  one 
who  has  cause  to  regret  the  prolonged  ab- 
sence of  the  Czar.  The  whole  people,  from 
the  highest  noble  to  the  serf,  complain  of  it 
bitterly.  Instead  of  devoting  his  time  to 
the  welfare  of  his  subjects,  the  Czar  aban- 
dons the  government  to  unworthy  minis- 
ters, and  amuses  himself  by  travelling 
through  Europe.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
officers  of  the  State  are  at  full  liberty 
to  do  as  they  please.  He  sets  no  value 
on  his  faithful  Russians,  but  follows  the 
advice  of  the  foreigners  by  whom  he  loves 
to  be  surrounded.  But  let  him  beware; 
to  a  certain  point  we  will  accept  his  inno- 
vations, but  beyond  that,  he  will  not  sue- 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  Jl 

ceed  as  long  as  a  Strelitzes  can  wield  a 
sword." 

"  Brother,"  exclaimed  Matinka  anxiously, 
"  you  have  hardly  been  admitted  into  a  reg- 
iment of  the  Strelitzes,  and  already  you  have 
imbibed  the  spirit  of  insubordination  which 
characterizes  that  corps.  Will  you  never 
learn  wisdom  ?  What  profit  did  your  com- 
rades derive  from  their  last  revolt?  The 
gibbet  or  exile  was  their  portion,  and  I  fear 
that  nothing  short  of  their  entire  destruc- 
tion will  make  them  peaceable.  I  implore 
you,  my  dear  brother,  not  to  lend  so  ready 
an  ear  to  the  suggestions  of  your  evil- 
minded  companions.  Leave  the  care  of 
providing  for  the  well-being  of  the  country 
to  Almighty  God.  If  the  Czar  does  not 
govern  in  a  manner  agreeable  to  the  Divine 
Majesty,  He  is  able  to  divest  him  of  the 
power  which  he  abuses.  As  for  us,  our 
duty  is  to  render  to  the  Emperor  what  be- 
longs to  the  Emperor." 

"  You  know  nothing  about  such  things," 
replied  Simonow.  "  The  duty  of  women  is 
to  be  silent ;  that  of  men,  is  to  act.  There- 
fore, await  in  peace  the  issue  of  events." 


?2  MENSHIKOFF ; 

Matinka's  anxiety  was  not  relieved ;  on 
the  contrary  the  words  she  had  just  heard 
increased  the  fears  which  were  but  too  soon 
realized. 

One  evening,  as  Matinka  was  engaged 
with  her  children  in  their  usual  devotions, 
their  attention  was  attracted  by  a  commo- 
tion in  the  street  which  augmented  every  in- 
stant. There  seemed  to  be  a  great  crowd 
rushing  to  and  fro,  doors  were  violently 
thrown  open,  others,  shut  with  a  loud  noise, 
and  tumultuous  cries  were  heard  in  the  dis- 
tance. The  uneasiness  of  the  mother,  ex- 
cited by  the  first  sounds  which  fell  upon  her 
ear,  was  soon  converted  into  extreme  alarm 
when  she  plainly  distinguished  the  report  of 
fire-arms. 

"  O  my  God  !  "  she  exclaimed  in  anguish, 
"  the  Strelitzes  are  at  work  !  " 

She  was  right.  The  Strelitzes,  to  the 
number  of  seven  thousand,  had  risen  in 
rebellion,  for  the  avowed  purpose  of  depos- 
ing the  Czar  Peter,  and  elevating  to  the 
throne  his  half-sister,  the  Princess  Sophia. 
The  revolt  soon  spread  through  Moscow, 
and  the  combat  became  more  general ;  the 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  73 

discharge  of  musketry  mingled  with  the 
cries  of  the  fugitives  and  the  groans  of  the 
wounded.  The  greater  part  of  the  Strelitzes 
were  intoxicated,  and  this  unbridled  soldiery 
made  great  havoc  through  the  capital,  men- 
acing with  death  all  the  adherents  of  Peter. 
They  soon  began  to  put  their  threats  into 
execution.  How  agonizing  were  Matinka's 
fears  for  her  children !  Her  husband  was 
well  known  as  one  of  the  greatest  favorites 
of  the  young  Czar,  and  in  his  absence,  might 
they  not  wreak  their  vengeance  on  his 
family?  Overpowered  by  terror  she  fell 
upon  her  knees  and  invoked  the  protection 
of  Heaven  for  herself  and  the  two  innocent 
creatures  she  held  in  her  arms.  She  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  extinguish  the 
lamp,  but  the  light  from  the  fires  kindled 
by  the  rebels — several  palaces  were  already 
in  flames — defined  sharply  upon  the  oppo- 
site wall  the  shadows  of  the  unhappy  family. 
How  Matinka  rejoiced  at  having  relin- 
quished her  former  sumptuous  abode,  and 
retired  to  the  simple  frame  building  she 
now  occupied  !  For,  in  the  palace  nothing 
escaped  the  blind  fury  of  the  Strelitzes,  who 


74  MENSHIKOFF ; 

destroyed  whatever  came  in  their  way. 
But  even  under  the  humble  roof  which 
sheltered  them,  they  were  not  secure  from 
danger.  Matinka  had  locked  and  bolted 
the  outer  doors  and  fastened  the  shutters 
on  the  ground  floor,  but  erelong  she  heard 
a  band  of  rebels  approaching  the  house  and 
yelling  with  all  their  might : 

"  Down  with  the  race  of  Menshikoff ! 
Death  to  the  Menshikoff!  " 

Matinka  hurried  her  children  to  the  yard, 
placed  them  in  a  corner,  and  piled  before 
them  two  or  three  empty  barrels  and  some 
fire  wood.  Then  she  cautiously  entered  the 
front  room  of  the  ground  floor,  so  as  to 
discover,  as  far  as  possible,  what  was  passing 
outside,  that  she  might  be  guided  as  to  the 
best  course  to  pursue.  The  clamor  waxed 
louder  and  louder,  and  she  heard  the  soldiers 
beating  the  doors  and  window-shutters  with 
the  butt  end  of  their  guns  in  the  evident 
attempt  to  force  them  open.  As  it  seemed 
no  easy  matter  to  obtain  an  entrance  into 
the  house  by  this  means,  a  soldier  fired  at 
one  of  the  windows  on  the  first  floor;  the 
ball  pierced  the  blind  and  whistled  close  by 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  75 

Matinka's  head.  This  was  followed  by 
a  shower  of  balls,  several  of  which  entered 
the  room  without,  however,  wounding  the 
poor  woman.  Her  terror  was  at  its  height 
as  several  voices  amid  the  crowd  cried 
out: 

"  Let  us  burn  them  out !     Bring  fire !  " 

A  man  sprang  forward  immediately  with 
a  resin  torch,  and  was  about  to  carry  the 
suggestion  into  effect,  when  unexpectedly  a 
protector  appeared  upon  the  scene  in  the 
person  of  a  lieutenant  of  the  Strelitzes.  He 
rushed  into  the  midst  of  his  comrades  ex- 
claiming: 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  Can  you 
find  no  better  work  to  occupy  you  than 
pillaging  this  poor  cabin,  which  is  hardly 
worth  ten  roubles  ?  " 

"  Lieutenant,"  replied  some  of  the 
soldiers,  "  we  know  what  we  are  about. 
MenshikofFs  family  live  here  and  we  are 
resolved  to  exterminate  them." 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  said  Simonow,  who, 
hearing  of  her  danger,  had  hastened  to  save 
Matinka.  "My  own  sister  rented  this  house 
after  the  death  of  MenshikofFs  mother. 


?6  MENSHIKOFF; 

We  have  already  sacked  the  residence  of 
the  imperial  favorite." 

Then  approaching  the  house  he  called 
aloud  : 

"  Matinka  !  Matinka  !  where  are  you  ?  why 
don't  you  open  the  door  to  me?" 

"  I  am  here,  Simonow,"  answered  his 
sister,  unclosing  the  shutters.  "  I  am  so 
grateful  to  you  for  coming  to  my  assist- 
ance." 

"  You  see  that  I  told  the  truth,"  resumed 
the  lieutenant,  addressing  his  comrades. 
"  Now  let  us  go  elsewhere  ;  we  shall  find 
more  suitable  work  than  destroying  the 
house  of  my  poor  sister." 

The  Strelitzes  moved  away  without  mak- 
ing any  opposition,  and  soon  disappeared 
from  the  street.  What  fervent  thanksgiving 
Matinka  returned  to  heaven  for  the  preser- 
vation of  herself  and  her  children  from  the 
imminent  danger!  But  the  tragedy  being 
enacted  in  the  streets  was  not  at  an  end. 
On  the  contrary,  the  tumult  became  more 
violent,  and  the  report  of  fire-arms  re- 
doubled with  frightful  intensity.  The  regi- 
ments which  remained  faithful  to  the  Czar 


OR,    THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  77 

had  united  under  the  orders  of  General 
Gordon.  He  commanded  the  rebels  to 
return  to  their  quarters,  and  on  their  refusal, 
he  attacked  them,  making  a  great  slaughter 
and  strewing  the  streets  with  the  bodies  of 
the  dead.  The  contest  was  still  raging  when 
Matinka  heard  a  gentle  knock  at  her  front 
door.  She  descended  hastily,  and  inquired 
in  a  low  voice  who  was  there. 

"  It  is  I,  sister;  open  the  door  at  once," 
replied  her  brother  in  a  faint  voice. 

She  drew  back  the  bolt  without  delay, 
but  could  scarcely  control  herself  on  seeing 
her  beloved  brother,  her  protector,  pale,  cov- 
ered with  blood,  and  tottering  from  weak- 
ness. 

"Let  me  die  here  in  peace,"  he  said 
feebly,  as  he  learned  upon  his  sister  for  sup- 
port, purpling  her  dress  with  the  blood 
which  flowed  from  his  wound.  "All  is 
lost.  To  be  shot  or  hung,  is  the  fate  which 
awaits  me,  if  my  place  of  retreat  be  dis- 
covered." 

He  was  scarcely  able  with  the  assistance 
of  his  sister  to  ascend  the  staircase.  What 
anguish  to  the  heart  of  poor  Matinka ! 


78  MENSHIKOFF ; 

The  condition  of  Simonow  required  the 
immediate  attendance  of  a  surgeon,  and  yet 
she  dared  not  call  one  in,  for  fear  of  betray- 
ing the  asylum  she  had  offered  to  her 
brother.  She,  therefore,  undertook  to  ex- 
amine, wash,  and  dress  his  wounds  herself  ; 
a  painful  task  to  one  who  had  a  horror  of 
the  sight  of  blood,  a  task  however,  which 
her  sisterly  affection  gave  her  strength  to 
accomplish.  The  remainder  of  the  night 
she  passed  by  his  bedside,  cooling,  as  well 
as  she  could,  with  simple  remedies  the  burn- 
ing heat  of  his  fever. 

The  following  morning  she  impressed 
upon  her  children  the  extreme  danger  to 
which  the  family  would  be  exposed  should 
it  unfortunately  become  known  that  one  of 
the  Strelitzes  had  found  refuge  in  the  house, 
and  she  urged  upon  them  the  importance  of 
being  silent  upon  the  subject  to  any  one 
whom  they  might  see.  The  advice  was 
most  seasonable,  for,  two  days  afterwards, 
a  proclamation  was  issued  declaring  that 
the  penalty  of  exile  into  Siberia  would  be 
rigorously  enforced  upon  all  who,  knowing 
the  place  of  concealment  of  a  rebel,  would 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  79 

refrain  from  denouncing  him  to  the  military 
authorities.  Could  Matinka  obey  such  a 
decree  ?  Could  she  deliver  up  to  certain 
death  her  brother,  her  savior,  the  savior  of 
her  children  ?  No,  she  would  not,  even  at 
the  risk  of  her  own  life.  Moreover,  she 
trusted  in  the  influence  of  her  husband  at 
Court  to  save  Simonow.  He  improved 
rapidly,  and  the  brother  and  sister  were 
considering  the  best  means  to  adopt  in 
order  to  secure  his  escape  from  the  capital, 
when  the  unexpected  return  of  the  Czar  to 
Moscow  overthrew  all  the  plans  they  had 
devised.  A  ukase  was  promulgated,  order- 
ing search  to  be  made  for  the  missing 
Strieltzi. 

The  news  of  the  horrible  revolt  which 
had  imbued  the  streets  of  the  capital  with 
blood,  had  reached  the  Czar  in  England,  at 
the  moment  when  he  was  about  to  embark 
for  Italy.  On  being  informed  what  had 
occurred,  his  anger  was  unbounded,  and  he 
determined  to  judge  the  guilty  without 
mercy.  He  first  directed  that  every  quar- 
ter of  the  city  should  be  searched.  Now,  as 
the  neighbors  had  frequently  seen  Matin- 


80  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

ka's  brother  go  in  and  out  of  the  house,  the 
officers  of  the  law  naturally  included  it 
among  the  number  of  suspected  dwellings 
and,  of  course,  Simonow  was  discovered. 
He  was  made  prisoner  and  carried  off  under 
a  strong  escort.  Matinka  would  have  ex- 
perienced the  same  fate,  had  she  not  been 
spared  by  the  superior  officer  out  of 
respect  to  her  husband's  name. 

The  next  day  she  learned  that  all  the 
chiefs  of  the  Strelitzes  had  been  condemned 
to  death.  Wild  with  grief,  she  directed  her 
steps  towards  the  Kremlin,  or  palace  of  the 
Czar;  she  shuddered  with  horror,  as  she 
saw  the  workmen  engaged  in  erecting  gal- 
lows on  the  battlements  of  the  imperial 
fortress.  She  had  no  doubt  that  sentence 
had  been  passed  upon  her  brother,  as  his 
wounds  were  evidence  of  the  part  he  had 
taken  in  the  struggle  ;  besides,  his  rank  of 
lieutenant  would  exclude  him  from  pardon. 
She  was  revolving  in  her  mind  what  means 
she  could  possibly  adopt  to  save  him,  when 
a  way  suddenly  suggested  itself,  but  she 
must,  to  ensure  success,  discover  if  her 
husband  had  returned  to  Moscow  with  the 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  8 1 

Czar.  For  this  purpose,  she  first  went  to 
the  palace  she  had  occupied  before  the 
departure  of  Menshikoff.  She  found  it  a 
heap  of  ruins,  and  nothing  induced  her  to 
suppose  that  he  had  been  there.  Dis- 
appointed in  obtaining  the  desired  informa- 
tion, she  turned  in  another  direction,  and 
after  a  few  minutes  walk  met  a  band  of 
soldiers  escorting  a  party  of  Strelitzes  loaded 
with  chains.  Anxiously  casting  her  eyes 
over  the  prisoners,  she  recognized  the  unfor- 
tunate Simonow.  He  was  extremely  pale, 
but  seemed  calm  and  resigned. 

"  Simonow  !  my  beloved  brother ! ""  she 
exclaimed,  advancing  towards  him  with  open 
arms. 

"Back!  back!"  cried  out  the  soldiers, 
raising  the  butt-end  of  their  muskets  .to 
strike  the  poor  woman,  who  was  obliged  to 
desist  from  her  attempt  to  reach  her 
brother,  and  to  follow  the  sad  cortege  at  a 
short  distance. 

At   this   moment   it  happened   that   the 
Emperor  himself,  accompanied  by  a  numer- 
ous suite,  turned   into  the   street   and   ad- 
vanced  towards  the   escort.     This  sudden 
6 


82  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

apparition  seemed  to  Matinka  a  manifest 
interference  of  heaven.  Prostrating  herself 
before  the  Czar,  she  raised  her  hands  in 
supplication  and  cried  in  a  tone  of  an- 
guish : 

"  Great  Emperor !  Pardon  !  Pardon  for 
my  unfortunate  brother  !  " 

At  this  unexpected  apostrophe,  Peter 
checked  his  horse,  and  touched  by  the 
agony  depicted  on  the  woman's  countenance, 
he  asked  kindly,  "Who  is  your  brother? 
What  is  the  crime  for  which  you  sue  for 
pardon  ?  " 

Encouraged  by  the  gentle  manner  in 
which  he  spoke,  Matinka  pointed  to  the 
group  of  prisoners  and  said  : 

"  He  is  one  of  those  men  who  are  being 
led  to  execution.  He  is  one  of  the  Strelit- 
zes,  but  he  is  the  best,  the  most  devoted  of 
brothers." 

"  And  the  most  ungrateful  of  my  subjects," 
interrupted  the  Czar,  whose  face  clouded  im- 
mediately. "  All  the  Strelitzes  are  wretches 
who  conspired  my  death.  No  pardon  for 
them  ;  all  shall  receive  the  punishment  they 
deserve." 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  83 

Having  said  these  words  he  was  about  to 
move  on,  when  Matinka  recognized  her  hus- 
band amid  the  Emperor's  suite.  The  sight 
of  Menshikoff  revived  the  hope  which  had 
been  extinguished  by  the  positive  refusal 
of  the  Czar. 

"  Alexander !  my  dear  husband  ! "  she 
cried  out,  "  intercede  with  me,  I  implore  you 
in  favor  of  my  unfortunate  brother.  He  is 
guilty  of  no  crime.  He  saved  my  life  and 
the  lives  of  your  children.  Unite  your  sup- 
plications with  mine,  I  implore  you." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  the  Emperor,  ad- 
dressing his  favorite,  "  is  it  possible  that  your 
wife  is  the  sister  of  a  rebel?" 

Menshikoff  at  once  comprehended  that 
his  future  hung  in  the  balance  and  that  an 
acknowledgment  of  the  truth  would  involve 
the  loss  of  his  master's  favor.  Unwilling 
at  any  cost,  to  incur  so  great  a  disgrace,  he 
allowed  worldly  considerations  to  gain  the 
ascendency  over  the  fear  of  God. 

"  My  gracious  lord  and  master,"  he  re- 
plied with  imperturbable  effrontery,  "  her 
fears  for  her  brother  have  destroyed  the  wo- 
man's reason.  This  is  the  first  time  I  have 


84  MENSHIKOFF ; 

ever  seen  her."  Turning  to  some  of  the  at- 
tendants in  the  suite  of  the  Czar,  he  ordered 
them  to  remove  her,  and  then  rode  on  with 
the  Czar  without  even  casting  a  glance  at 
poor  Matinka,  who  was  thrown  insensible 
upon  the  sidewalk  by  the  imperial  ser- 
vants. 

When  she  recovered  from  her  swoon,  it 
seemed  to  her  that  she  was  awaking  from  a 
horrible  dream ;  she  even  asked  herself  if  it 
might  not  be  that  she  was  mad.  What  a 
frightful  awakening!  and  oh!  what  a  terri- 
ble meeting  after  so  long  a  separation ! 
How  her  heart  was  crushed,  as  she  recalled 
the  odious  conduct  of  the  man  for  whom 
she  would  gladly  have  sacrificed  her  life ! 
With  difficulty  she  dragged  herself  to  her 
humble  dwelling.  She  endeavored  to  con- 
sider if  any  means  remained  untried  to  ef- 
fect her  brothers  release,  but  her  thoughts 
were  so  confused  she  could  resolve  on  noth- 
ing. Hope  was  extinct.  God  had  de- 
prived her  of  her  excellent  mother-in-law ; 
her  brother  was  being  led  to  execution; 
perhaps  he  had  already  expiated  his  fault 
on  the  gallows.  Her  husband  was  forever 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  85 

lost  to  her.  Of  all  the  ties  which  bound  her 
to  life,  none  remained  but  her  children,  and 
that  firm  confidence  in  the  protection  of 
God  which  never  abandons  the  virtuous. 

But  a  deeper  anguish  lacerated  at  that 
moment  the  heart  of  Menshikoff.  He  had 
coldly  sacrificed  the  sentiment  of  honor  and 
duty,  his  conscience,  his  wife  and  his  child- 
ren for  the  favor  of  an  inconstant  man.  He 
had  staked  all  that  should  have  been  dear 
to  him  for  a  shadow,  a  nothing.  These  re- 
flections forced  themselves  upon  him,  when, 
after  leaving  the  Czar,  he  retired  to  his  own 
room.  Nervously  pacing  the  floor,  and 
striving  in  vain  to  lull  the  reproaches  of 
conscience,  he  revolved  in  his  mind  his  pres- 
ent position.  Again  and  again  he  asked 
himself  the  question,  should  he  persevere  in 
the  path  he  had  entered  and  definitively 
repudiate  his  wife,  or,  abandoning  the  se- 
ductive road  of  ambition  should  he  return 
to  his  original  obscurity  ?  Long  did  he 
waver  in  his  decision ;  at  last,  the  spirit  of 
evil  conquered.  The  wretched  man  deter- 
mined to  break  a  marriage  which  would  de- 
prive him  of  the  good  graces  of  the  Em- 


86  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

peror,  and  be  an  obstacle  to  his  future  ad- 
vancement at  court.  He  had  not,  however, 
the  courage  to  execute  this  odious  project 
himself.  Moreover,  he  feared  he  might  fal- 
ter in  his  infamous  resolution,  were  he  to 
have  a  personal  interview  with  his  wife  and 
children.  He  therefore  gave  the  negotia- 
tion with  Matinka  in  charge  of  his  steward, 
a  shrewd  and  able  man. 

She  was  seated  with  her  children,  when  a 
knock  at  the  door  caused  her  to  start  and 
utter  a  loud  cry.  She  had  not  renounced 
all  hope  of  seeing  her  husband  return  to  her 
again.  How  bitter  the  disappointment  to 
meet  a  stranger  instead  of  Menshikoff ! 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  8? 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE     SEPARATION. 

HAVING  ceremoniously  saluted  Matinka, 
the  messenger  from  Menshikoff  thus  ad- 
dressed her :  "  My  gracious  lord  would  be 
justifiable  were  he  to  reproach  you  severely 
for  having,  by  your  inconsiderate  conduct 
this  morning,  exposed  him  to  extreme 
danger.  But  he  spares  you  because  of  the 
sufferings  you  have  already  endured.  By 
the  fact  of  harboring  your  brother,  one  of 
the  chief  insurgents,  you  have  incurred  the 
penalty  of  exile  into  Siberia.  Your  hus- 
band might  have  saved  you  from  this  pun- 
ishment, and  even  preserved  the  life  of  your 
brother,  had  you  not,  with  unexampled  im- 
prudence, enacted  a  scene  in  the  presence  of 
the  irritated  Emperor. 

Should  the  Czar  now  learn  that  you  are 
really  the  wife  of  Menshikoff,  and  that  your 


88  MENSHIKOFF ; 

husband  deceived  him  in  your  regard,  the 
imperial  vengeance  would  fall  upon  both  of 
you,  and  your  children  would  be  left  orphans. 
To  avert  from  all  the  danger  which  manaces 
you,  there  is  but  one  means,  a  means  sug- 
gested to  my  master  by  the  deep  affection 
he  bears  to  you  and  his  children." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Matinka  eagerly. 

"  My  master  has  directed  me  to  propose 
it  to  you,"  continued  the  messenger,  as 
though  he  had  not  heard  the  question  just 
put  to  him.  Nothing  but  an  absolute  ne- 
cessity, and  the  present  imminent  peril 
could  have  forced  him  to  such  a  decision." 

"  For  the  love  of  heaven  and  in  mercy  tell 
me  at  once,"  said  Matinka. 

"If  you  consent  to  employ  this  means," 
pursued  the  steward,  dwelling  upon  each 
syllable,"  you  will  shield  your  husband  from 
the  just  indignation  of  the  Czar,  you  will 
save  the  life  of  your  brother,  and  you  your- 
self will  escape  being  exiled  to  Siberia.  If 
you  really  love  your  husband,  your  brother 
and  children,  you  will  not  reject  the  anchor 
of  salvation  he  holds  out  to  you." 

"  Certainly  I  will  not,"  exclaimed  Matin- 


OR,  THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  89 

ka  with  vehemence,  "but  tell  me  the 
means." 

"  It  is,"  slowly  replied  the  messenger  from 
Menshikoff,  "  the  dissolution  of  your  mar- 
riage with  my  gracious  lord." 

On  hearing  these  words,  she  trembled 
violently,  and  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands. 

"  Choose,  Matinka,"  resumed  the  steward, 
"and  let  me  know  your  decision." 

For  a  few  moments  she  was  unable  to 
speak,  then  she  said  in  a  faint  voice : 

"  Is  it  possible  that  there  remains  no  other 
way  of  securing  our  safety  but  the  separa- 
tion of  those  whose  union  God  has  blessed  ?  " 

"  There  is  none  other.  Thus  alone  can 
your  husband  preserve  the  influence  he 
now  possesses  and  attend  to  his  interests, 
without  exposing  himself  to  suspicion." 

"  To  anything  else  I  will  readily  con- 
sent," said  Matinka:  "to  that,  never.  Let 
my  husband  reduce  me  to  the  condition  of 
the  most  humble  slave." 

"  That  is  not  the  point.  The  question  con- 
cerns a  separation." 

"  I  am  ready  to  retire  with  my  children  to 


go  MENSHIKOFF ; 

the  most  remote  and  obscure  corner  of  the 
empire,"  replied  the  poor  woman,  weeping. 
"  No  one  shall  know  that  he  is  my  husband. 
I  will  even  forbid  my  children  ever  to  pro- 
nounce, in  the  presence  of  others,  the  name 
of  their  father.  But  consent  to  a  separation 
— never." 

"You  refuse,  then?" 

"  Yes,  sooner  would  I  sacrifice  my  life." 

Very  well,  your  husband  leaves  you  free. 
Proclaim,  if  you  will,  through  the  streets 
of  Moscow :  my  husband  lied  to  the  Czar ! 
I  am  the  wife  of  Menshikoff !  and  you 
will  soon  reap  the  reward  of  your  obsti- 
nacy." 

"  O   my  God ! Tell  my  husband 

to  do  what  he  thinks  right  and  best.  I  sub- 
mit to  his  will." 

"  That  is  precisely  what  he  does  not 
wish.  You  must,  yourself,  make  the  deci- 
sion, for  he  is  unwilling  that  you  should  have 
cause  even  to  make  him  the  least  reproach. 
If  you  agree,  he  will  accede  to  a  separation, 
if  you  refuse,  he  will  accept  with  resignation 
the  consequences  of  the  anger  of  the  Czar." 

"  Does  he   then  require  me  to  condemn 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  91 

myself  to  a  separation  which  will  be  my 
death?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  steward.  "  The  affair 
rests  entirely  in  your  hands.  The  love  he 
bears  you  is  such  that  he  leaves  it  to  you 
— the  decision  of  your  common  fate." 

Matinka  bowed  her  head,  joined  her 
hands,  and  prayed  in  silence.  After  a  few 
moments  she  said  to  the  steward,  who 
seemed  to  be  anxiously  awaiting  her 
answer : 

"  I  will  not  allow  Menshikoff  the  oppor- 
tunity of  saying  that  he  loves  me  more  than 
I  love  him.  To  prove  my  love  to  him,  I 
would  cheerfully  die.  But  I  can  make  a 
greater  sacrifice  than  my  life.  For  love  of 
him  I  consent  to  be  separated  from  him. 
Let  him  remain  great,  rich  and  happy, 
whilst  I  shall  be  poor  and  abandoned.  Now 
tell  him  to  look  to  the  rescue  of  my  brother 
from  the  hands  of  justice." 

"You  have  done  well,"  said  the  artful 
officer,  fully  satisfied  as  to  the  success  of  his 
mission. 

"  One  word  more  ;"  added  Matinka,  point- 
ing to  her  children.  "  Will  Menshikoff  leave 


92  MENSHIKOFF ; 

me  the  only  happiness  that  remains  to  me 
on  earth?  " 

"  He  said  nothing  positive  on  that  sub- 
ject," replied  the  messenger.  "Perhaps  as 
there  are  but  the  two,  an  arrangement 
might  be  made  for  you  to  keep  one." 

"  No,  no,"  exclaimed  Matinka.  ''  As  well 
might  you  cut  my  heart  in  two  pieces. 
Both,  both,  I  must  have  both  my  children. " 

"  Oh !  "  answered  the  steward,  "  I  think 
he  will  make  no  difficulty."  Having  ac- 
complished his  purpose,  he  retired. 

A  few  days  later,  on  a  cold  evening  in 
November,  1697,  Matinka,  accompanied  by 
her  two  children,  walked  slowly  towards  the 
church  of  St.  Andrew.  She  entered  through 
a  wide  door  into  the  temple,  the  vast  nave  of 
which  was  lighted  only  by  the  single  lamp 
suspended  before  the  tabernacle.  Pale  and 
exhausted  by  her  short  walk,  she  seated  her- 
self near  the  choir,  where,  overpowered  by 
grief,  she  prayed  in  silence;  neither  Florent 
nor  Helen  ventured  to  address  her. 

Shortly  afterwards  a  priest  entered  the 
sanctuary  and  knelt  at  the  foot  of  the  altar. 
He  was  a  venerable  old  man,  whose  white 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  93 

beard  fell  upon  his  chest.  As  he  prayed 
before  the  crucifix,  the  church  clock  struck 
nine.  Matinka  started,  glanced  hastily 
around  as  if  dreading  some  sinister  vision, 
and  trembled  on  hearing  a  vehicle  rolling 
rapidly  to  the  side  door  of  the  church,  where 
it  stopped.  Next,  the  heavy  tread  of  a  cava- 
lier resounded  on  the  marble  flag-stones.  A 
very  tall  man,  enveloped  in  a  large  mantle, 
entered  the  choir  and  knelt  upon  the  altar- 
step.  It  was  Menshikoff.  Twice  Matinka 
essayed  in  vain  to  rise,  and  twice  she  fell 
back  as  though  suddenly  paralyzed.  The 
venerable  priest,  taking  pity  on  her,  sup- 
ported her  to  the  al£ar-step  beside  her  hus- 
band, who  was  evidently  making  an  effort 
to  steel  himself  against  any  sentiment  of 
compassion.  Matinka  remained  standing 
with  bowed  head,  not  daring  even  to  take 
the  hand  of  the  man  she  loved  so  ten- 
derly. 

In  a  solemn  voice  the  priest  said : 

"  What  God   has  joined  together,  let  no 

man    put    asunder.      Yet    our   Lord    Jesus 

Christ  says  that  Moses,  on  account  of  the 

hardness  of  hearts,  ordered  a  decree  of  di- 


94  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

vorce  to  be  given  to  avoid  a  greater  mis- 
fortune." 

[Note. — The  priest,  in  order  to  authorize 
divorce,  satisfies  himself  with  repeating  the 
very  words  which  condemn  it,  for,  Jesus 
Christ,  after  recalling  the  toleration  granted 
the  Jews,  immediately  adds  that  he  had 
come  to  revoke  it,  and  to  restore  to  marriage 
its  primitive  purity  and  indissolubility.  Con- 
trary to  the  morality  of  the  Gospel  and  the 
Catholic  Church,  the  Greek  schism  permits 
divorce,  and  not  only  separates  what  God 
has  joined  together,  but  it  blesses,  by  a 
religious  ceremony,  the  separation,  as  it 
does  the  union.] 

"  Alexander  Menshikoff,"  continued  the 
priest,  "  are  you  determined  to  break  the 
union  which  you  have  contracted  before 
God?  And  are  you,  Matinka  Natuschkin, 
likewise  determined  to  dissolve  it?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  Imperial  Councillor, 
in  a  firm,  clear  voice. 

The  affirmative  reply  of  Matinka  was  as 
the  last  sigh  of  one  in  her  agony. 

"  In  sign  of  mutual  consent  take  hold  of 
hands,"  said  the  priest. 


OR,  THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  95 

Matinka  placed  her  icy  cold  hand  in  the 
burning,  nervous  hand  of  Menshikoff.  She 
trembled  so  convulsively  that  Menshikoff 
appeared  touched  by  it.  Had  she  not  cause 
to  tremble,  when  she  reflected  that  her  hand 
lay  in  that  of  her  husband  for  the  last  time? 

"Ten  years  ago,"  resumed  the  priest,  "I 
united  you  in  marriage  before  this  altar. 
To  day  I  release  you  from  the  vow  which 
then  bound  you.  I  absolve  you  from  your 
reciprocal  duties,  I  separate  you  from  each 
other  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  of  the  Son, 
and  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  May  you  never  re- 
pent what  you  have  now  done.  Go  in 
peace." 

Menshikoff  arose  immediately  and  left  the 
sanctuary.  The  children  sobbed  aloud.  As 
their  father  passed  them,  he  stopped  a  mo- 
ment and  said  gently  and  affectionately : 

"  Will  you  come  and  live  with  me?  " 

"  No,  no,  I  will  not,"  exclaimed  both 
children,  and  rushing  to  their  mother  they 
threw  their  arms  around  her  and  kissed  her 
over  and  over  again. 

Menshikoff  seemed  to  hesitate  and  waver 
in  his  resolution,  as  he  contemplated  this 


96  MENSHlKOFF  ; 

touching  scene,  but  in  an  instant  he  strode 
down  the  church  and  disappeared  through 
the  side-door. 

Henceforth  no  one  mentioned  the  names 
of  Matinka  and  her  children. 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  97 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  PINNACLE  OF  FORTUNE. 

THE  ambitious  Menshikoff  had  removed 
the  only  obstacle  which  stood  between  him 
and  the. worldly  honors  his  pride  coveted. 
Preferment  came  rapidly  :  in  a  few  years  he 
had  become  count,  prince,  prime  minister, 
field  marshal.  The  Emperor  bestowed  upon 
him  vast  domains,  with  one  hundred  thou- 
sand serfs,  and  named  him  Duke  of  Inger- 
manland.  The  Emperor  of  Germany,  the 
King  of  Prussia,  and  otherjmonarchs,  lavished 
dignities  upon  him  in  order  to  conciliate  the 
all-powerful  favorite.  The  immense  treasures 
he  received  from  the  generosity  of  the  Czar, 
he  increased  still  more  by  unlawful  means, 
for  avarice  is  the  root  of  all  vices.  He  em- 
bezzled large  sums  destined  for  government 
expenses,  accepting  bribes  for  appointments 
to  office  and,  more  than  once,  sold  himself  to 
7 


98  MENSHIKOFF ; 

foreign  princes,  thwarting,  in  their  interest, 
the  political  designs  of  his  master.  Having 
amassed  great  riches,  he  was  able  to  con- 
tract a  new  alliance  with  a  Russian  princess, 
who  bore  him  a  son  and  two  daughters. 
The  powerful  Menshikoff  was  honored  and 
dreaded  by  all  ;  even  the  most  noble  fam- 
ilies of  the  country  courted  his  favor. 
When  he  left  his  magnificent  palace  in  his 
elegant  equipage,  gilded  and  adorned  with 
armorial  bearings,  and  drawn  by  six  superb 
horses,  an  armed  guard  preceded  to  clear 
the  way.  All,  from  the  highest  officer  to 
the  simple  soldier,  saluted  him  with  as 
much  respect  as  if  he  were  the  Emperor 
himself.  No  one  could  recognize  in  the 
powerful  prince  the  pastry-cook's  appren- 
tice, who,  but  a  few  years  before,  had  sold 
pies  through  the  streets  of  Moscow. 

But,  alas !  the  man,  in  the  midst  of  his 
grandeur,  was  not  to  be  envied.  All  is  not 
gold  that  glitters.  Surrounded  by  the  splen- 
dors of  a  luxury  to  which  few  private  indi- 
viduals have  attained,  he  was  often  the 
most  miserable  of  men.  Over  his  head 
was  suspended  the  sword  of  Damocles. 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  99 

He  knew  it,  although  none  suspected  the 
anxiety  and  remorse  which  forever  gnawed 
his  heart. 

He  had  reached  the  zenith  of  his  glory; 
the  hour  of  his  humiliation  was  about  to 
sound. 

The  Czar  had  laid  the  foundations  of  a 
new  city  on  the  banks  of  the  Neva,  purpos- 
ing to  make  it  the  capital  of  his  empire; 
this  city  was  St.  Petersburg.  As  the  land 
was  moist  and  marshy,  it  was  necessary  to 
drain  it  and  add  dry  soil.  Thousands  of 
men  were  employed  at  this  work ;  wagons, 
carts,  and  every  description  of  transport  was 
pressed  into  service  for  conveying  bags 
of  earth  even  from  a  great  distance. 
It  happened  one  day  that  Peter  the  Great 
desired  to  inspect  the  works.  He  directed 
Menshikoff  to  accompany  him  to  the  envi- 
rons of  the  new  city.  Scarcely  had  they 
left  the  precincts  of  Moscow,  when  they 
reached  a  bridge  roughly  formed  of  trunks  of 
trees  partly  decayed,  and  dangerous  to  cross. 
There  were  large  openings  in  the  logs, 
and  the  least  deviation  of  the  horses  from  the 
straight  line,  would  necessarily  have  upset 


IOO  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

the  vehicle  and  precipitated  the  Emperor 
into  the  marsh  over  which  the  bridge  was 
thrown.  He  had  been  conversing  pleas- 
antly until  they  neared  the  dangerous  cross- 
ing. In  a  voice  of  thunder  he  cried  out : 

"Halt!" 

The  horses  stopped  as  still  as  if  their  feet 
had  taken  root  in  the  ground.  Addressing 
Menshikoff,  the  Czar  said  : 

"  Did  I  not,  rascal,  appoint  you  inspector 
general  of  bridges  throughout  the  empire  ? 
Look  at  this  one.  Is  it  thus  you  earn  the 
thousands  of  roubles  I  pay  you  annually? 
Why  do  you  not  attend  faithfully  to  the 
duties  of  your  office?  You  are  a  robber. 
Descend  from  the  carriage  for  a  moment." 

Saying  these  words  the  Emperor  sprang 
lightly  to  the  ground.  Menshikoff  followed 
him  trembling  in  every  limb.  The  Czar 
took  his  cane,  and  dealt  with  it  no  gentle 
blows  upon  the  back  of  his  Minister  of 
State.  It  was  a  strange  spectacle  to  the 
curious  crowd  which  had  collected  around 
the  monarch,  to  behold  that  prince,  clad  in 
the  most  simple  attire,  administering,  with 
his  own  hand,  so  severe  a  castigation  to  a 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  101 

great  lord  superbly  dressed,  wearing  the 
insignia  of  many  orders,  and  submitting 
meekly  to  the  violent  correction.  When 
Peter  had  fatigued  his  arm,  and  his  anger 
had  cooled,  he  said  affectionately  to  his  fav- 
orite : 

"  Now,  dear  Menshikoff,  we  will  continue 
our  journey." 

Both  re-entered  the  carriage,  and  the 
Emperor  resumed  the  conversation  as  pleas- 
antly as  though  nothing  had  occurred  to  in- 
terupt  it.  As  to  the  Minister  of  State,  "he 
dared  not  give  the  least  indication  of  the 
pain  he  was  suffering.  On  the  contrary,  he 
was  obliged  to  laugh  every  time  the  Czar 
laughed. 

Not  long  after  the  incident  related  above, 
information  was  given  the  Emperor  of 
another  embezzlement  on  the  part  of  Men- 
shikoff. The  latter,  apprised  of  the  fact  by 
the  spies  whom  he  employed  in  the  imperi- 
al palace,  was  apprehensive  lest  serious  con- 
sequences might  result  to  him  from  the 
denunciation  to  his  master  of  his  renewed 
peculation.  But  before  he  could  devise  a 
plan  to  avert  the  the  effects  of  the  Emper- 


102  MENSHIKOFF; 

or's  wrath,  he  received  a  letter  inviting  him 
to  dine  with  the  Czar.  He  turned  pale  and 
trembled  from  fear,  and  so  great  was  his 
agitation  that  he  was  unable  to  conceal  it 
from  his  valet  when  he  presented  him  his 
court-dress  for  the  occasion.  He  sighed  as 
he  contemplated  the  decorations  and  insig- 
nia, the  marks  of  imperial  favor ;  gladly  he 
would  now  have  exchanged  them  for  the 
peace  of  a  good  conscience.  With  anxious 
forebodings  he  passed  the  various  groups  of 
courtiers,  officers,  Councillors  of  State,  min- 
isters and  embassadors  who  were  assembled 
at  the  palace,  and  who  saluted  him  respect- 
fully, although  the  greater  part  cordially  de- 
tested him.  With  a  presentiment  of  the 
humilation  awaiting  him,  the  homage  he 
rendered  the  Emperor  and  Empress  was  un- 
usually profound.  His  place  at  the  table 
was  opposite  the  Czar.  The  latter  appeared 
serious,  but  gave  no  evidence  of  anger  or 
excitement.  Menshikoff  had  no  appetite, 
and  the  luxuries  spread  before  him  he  left 
untouched.  Occasionally,  he  scanned  anx- 
iously the  countenance  of  the  Emperor,  hop- 
ing to  read  in  his  expression  the  thoughts 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  IO3 

which  occupied  his  mind.  But  not  a  cloud 
disturbed  his  serenity.  Suddenly  the  band 
of  music  stopped,  and  the  guests,  involun- 
tarily ceasing  their  conversation,  turned 
towards  the  Czar  who,  with  his  habitual 
calmness,  directed  one  of  the  attendants  to 
bring  from  his  cabinet  a  folded  paper  which 
he  would  find  on  the  marble  table  under 
the  mirror. 

Menshikoff  comprehended  at  once  that 
a  bitter  humiliation  was  in  store  for  him, 
and  his  anguish  was  indescribable.  When 
the  chamberlain  returned  and  presented  the 
paper  to  his  master,  the  latter  said  : 

"  Read  the  contents  aloud,  slowly  and  dis- 
tinctly." 

Menshikoff  trembled  from  terror  upon  be- 
holding the  angry  flash  of  the  Emperor's  eye 
as  he  imperiously  commanded  him  to  rise. 
Without  a  word  the  favorite  promptly 
obeyed,  presenting  a  pitiable  image  of  a 
criminal  before  his  judge.  The  chamber- 
lain was  equally  embarrassed,  and  glancing 
suppliantly  at  Menshikoff  as  if  to  beg 
pardon  for  what  was  about  to  happen,  he 
read  in  a  hesitating  manner  the  following : 


104  MENSHIKOFF; 

"Alexander  Menshikoff,  the  son  of  a  poor 
peasant,  was  lifted  from  his  low  condition 
of  a  pastry-cook's  apprentice  by  the  favor  of 
his  sovereign,  and  elevated  to  the  highest 
dignities  of  the  State.  By  the  eminent 
qualities  with  which  he  was  gifted,  by  his 
extraordinary  acquirements,  his  indefati- 
gable activity,  he  conciliated  the  good  will  of 
his  Emperor,  who  lavished  upon  him  wealth 
and  honors.  But  he  has  not  always  corre- 
sponded to  the  just  expectations  of  his  mas- 
te.r;  he  has  often  repaid  with  the  blackest 
ingratitude  the  kindness  of  which  he  was  the 
object.  The  enumeration  of  his  unjustifiable 
and  iniquitous  acts,  would  fill  a  volume. 
He  relies  upon  the  longanimity  of  his  in- 
dulgent Emperor,  who  has  already  chastised 
him  by  making  public  his  peculations;  he 
has  again  been  detected  in  the  embezzle- 
ment of  the  public  funds  by  drawing,  for 
two  years,  and  appropriating  to  his  own  use, 
the  pay  for  a  regiment  which  did  not  exist." 

The  chamberlain,  having  completed  the 
reading,  folded  the  paper  and  awaited  the 
Czar's  orders. 

Peter,  fixing   his   eyes   sternly  upon   the 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  IO$ 

prince,  and  dwelling  upon  each  syllable  as 
he  spoke,  said  to  him  : 

"  Menshikoff,  I  have  humiliated  you,  but 
you  have  richly  deserved  punishment.  You 
have  long  known  the  penalty  I  intend  to  in- 
flict when  you  are  guilty  of  such  misdeeds. 
I  will  faithfully  keep  the  promise  I  made 
you  never  to  condemn  you  to  death ;  but  I 
advise  you  not  to  force  me,  by  a  renewal  of 
your  crime,  to  reiterate  the  chastisement  of 
to-day,  or  to  use  my  cane  as  I  did  at  the 
bridge  of  St.  Petersburg." 

Thus  terminated  this  painful  scene. 

After  dinner,  the  Emperor  and  all  the 
court  repaired  to  another  hall,  where  tables 
had  been  arranged  for  cards.  Menshikoff 
made  one  of  a  party  consisting  of  the  Em- 
press and  two  of  her  ladies  of  honor,  and  he 
played  as  though  nothing  unusual  had  oc- 
curred, although  the  exterior  calm  which  he 
maintained,  belied  the  agitation  of  his  soul. 
Besides,  his  humiliation  was  not  the  only 
reparation  exacted  of  him.  Every  day  has 
its  morrow,  and  on  the  morrow,  the  impe- 
rial favorite  received  a  positive  command 
from  the  Czar  to  refund  the  two  hundred 


106  MENSHIKOFF ; 

thousand  roubles  which  had  been  the  fruit 
of  his  peculation. 

In  1725  Peter  the  Great  died,  and  the  Em- 
press Catharine  I.  succeeded  him  on  the 
throne  of  Russia. 

This  change  of  sovereigns,  far  from  re- 
stricting the  power  exercised  by  Menshikoff, 
only  rendered  it  the  more  secure.  It  was 
through  the  influence  of  his  favorite  that 
the  young  Czar  had  made  choice  of  Catha- 
rine, or  rather  Martha  Rabe,  for  his  wife, 
and  encircled  her  brow,  peasant  as  she  was, 
with  the  imperial  diadem.  Under  the  new 
administration,  Menshikoff's  hand  was  visi- 
ble in  every  department,  and  the  reign  of 
his  former  protegee  was,  in  reality,  his  own 
reign.  He  ruled  supreme,  and  many  a  one 
whom  he  suspected  of  denouncing  him  to 
the  Czar  Peter  was  exiled  to  Siberia.  How- 
ever, this  worldly  glory  was  not  of  long  dura- 
tion. In  1727  the  Empress  followed  her 
husband  to  the  grave,  leaving  the  throne  to 
her  grandson  Peter  II.,  a  boy  of  thirteen 
years  of  age.  Menshikoff,  for  a  moment, 
thought  his  rule  was  at  end.  But  Catha- 
rine's will  invested  him  with  the  regency 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  IO/ 

during  the  minority  of  the  Czar,  to  whom  he 
was  also  appointed  guardian.  His  pride  no 
longer  knew  any  bounds.  He  went  so  far 
as  to  aspire  to  become  the  father-in-law  of 
his  sovereign.  He  betrothed  his  elder 
daughter  to  the  young  Peter,  and  the  time 
was  appointed  for  the  marriage. 

But  the  patience  of  Almighty  God  had 
reached  its  limit,  and  the  moment  had  come, 
when  his  insatiable  ambition  was  to  be 
checked  by  the  voice  of  Heaven,  and  he  was 
to  hear  the  words,  "  So  far  shalt  thou  go  but 
no  farther." 


108  MENSHIKOFF; 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  FAITHFUL  SERVANT. 

SHORTLY  after  the  important  events  re- 
corded above,  Menshikoff  remembered,  after 
retiring  for  the  night,  that  he  had  neglected 
to  transmit  an  imperial  order.  He  pulled 
the  bell-cord  which  hung  at  the  head  of  the 
bed,  in  order  to  summon  the  attendant 
whose  duty  it  was  to  watch  in  the  ante- 
chamber. The  call  was  not  answered. 
Again  he  rang,  but  no  one  came.  Enraged 
by  the  inattention  of  his  subordinate,  he 
sprang  from  the  bed  and  opened  the  door 
leading  into  the  antechamber.  A  young 
man  engaged  in  writing  a  letter  was  seated 
at  a  table  with  his  back  to  the  door,  and  ap- 
parently so  absorbed  in  thought  as  to  have 
been  unconscious  of  his  master's  summons. 

Like  all  others  whose  conscience  is  not 
pure,  Menshikoff  was  suspicious.  What 


OR,    THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  IOQ 

could  be  the  nature  of  the  communication, 
he  said  to  himself,  which  so  entirely  en- 
grossed his  servant's  attention  as  to  render 
him  oblivious  of  all  else  ?  Perhaps  he  was 
a  spy,  making  notes  for  his  employers  at  a 
time  when  he  supposed  the  household  were 
buried  in  sleep.  At  any  rate,  he  must  sat- 
isfy himself  on  that  point. 

Softly  entering  the  cabinet,  he  stole  on 
tip-toe  behind  the  young  man  and  looked 
over  his  shoulder ;  but  as  the  first  word  his 
eye  fell  upon  was  his  own  name,  he  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Hold  !  what  are  you  doing?" 

Terrified  as  if  an  infernal  voice  had  struck 
his  ear,  the  young  man  arose  hastily,  and 
seemed  uncertain  whether  to  throw  himself 
at  his  master's  feet  or  to  seek  to  escape  his 
anger  by  flight.  His  lips  moved  as  he  en- 
deavored to  stammer  an  excuse,  but  no 
sound  was  audible. 

"  Scoundrel !  I  have  caught  you  in  the 
act  ! "  cried  Menshikoff,  as  he  seized  the 
paper  which  he  supposed  to  be  the  proof  of 
treachery. 

He  ran  his   eye  rapidly  over  the   sheet, 


no  MENSHIKOFF; 

but  as  he  read,  his  features  relaxed  and  the 
angry  expression  disappeared.  In  the 
mean  time,  the  young  man  having  re- 
covered from  his  emotion  calmly  awaited 
the  result. 

The  contents  of  his  letter  were  as  follows: 

"  MY  DEAR  MOTHER  : 

"A  long  time  has  passed  since  you  have 
heard  from  me,  but  I  beg  you  not  to  con- 
clude from  my  silence  that  I  have  forgotten 
you.  Want  of  time  alone  has  caused  my 
apparent  neglect.  Fortunately,  however, 
the  unavoidable  delay  gives  me  the  oppor- 
tunity of  sending  you  good  news.  I  have 
had  the  happiness  of  being  admitted  among 
the  attendants  of  the  great  Prince  Menshi- 
koff,  of  whom  you  so  often  spoke  to  us 
when  we  were  children.  What  peculiar 
emotions  I  experienced  on  entering  the 
house  of  a  man  so  universally  honored  and 
so  rich !  I  was  somewhat  alarmed,  having 
been  told  that  he  was  haughty,  irascible, 
and  unkind.  But  since  I  have  been  in  his 
service,  I  can  say  from  personal  observa- 
tion that  he  has  been  misrepresented.  He 
is  not,  certainly,  an  angel  from  heaven,  but 
he  has  excellent  qualities.  So  far,  I  have 
no  cause  for  serious  complaint,  and  I 
believe  that  if  his  dependants  perform  their 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  Ill 

duty  properly,  he  is  not  a  person  who  would 
find  fault  unjustly.  In  truth,  his  palace  is 
daily  beset  by  a  crowd  of  people,  great 
lords,  and  poor,  unfortunate  creatures,  all 
tormenting  him  and  soliciting  some  favor, 
until  it  amounts  to  a  persecution.  It  is  not, 
therefore,  astonishing  if  my  master  some- 
times loses  his  temper,  and  storms  against 
the  intruders  as  Samson  did  against  the 
Philistines.  The  prince  -has  two  charming 
little  girls,  beautiful  and  sweet  as  angels, 
and  then  a  son,  brave,  as  the  son  of  such  a 
lord  should  be,  for  whom  one  may,  unhesi- 
tatingly, predict  a  brilliant  future.  I  can 
not  say  enough  in  praise  of  the  princess. 
Twice  already,  when  giving  me  a  rouble  for 
executing  a  commission,  she  has  called  me 
'dear  Michaelow.'  I  send  you,  dear 
mother,  in  this  letter  thirty  roubles  of  silver 
which  I  have  saved  from  money  received. 
My  master  gives  me  high  wages,  and  to  this 
is  added  an  occasional  gift.  Besides,  I  gain 
another  rouble  by  watching  during  the 
night  in  the  prince's  antechamber.  This  is 
the  third  night  that  I  have  supplied  the 
place  of  a  fellow-servant." 

Here  Menshikoff  had  interrupted  the 
young  man.  He  was  not  in  the  least  of- 
fended by  the  description  his  servant  had 


112  MENSHIKOFF; 

given  of  him.  On  the  contrary,  he  was 
rather  flattered  by  the  simple  language  of  a 
child  speaking  the  sentiments  of  his  heart ; 
for,  at  times,  he  could  be  noble  and  gener- 
ous. He  gave  the  young  man  the  despatch, 
directing  him  to  present  it  to  the  officer  on 
duty,  with  orders  to  forward  it  immediately. 
He  then  drew  from  his  purse  a  handful  of 
gold  pieces  and  said  to  the  astonished  at- 
tendant, 

"  Send  that  to  your  mother,  as  she  has 
brought  you  up  so  well.  So  good  a  son 
must  of  necessity  be  an  honest,  faithful  ser- 
vant. If  you  do  not  permit  yourself  to  be 
spoiled  by  others,  you  need  not  fear  that  I 
shall  storm  against  you  as  Samson  against 
the  Philistines,  or  the  Czar  Peter  against  the 
Swedes  at  Pultowa.  I  am  in  great  want  of 
a  man  upon  whose  fidelity  I  can  rely  ;  for, 
I  am  well  aware  that  among  my  household 
there  are  concealed  enemies.  It  is  in  your 
power  to  aid  me  to  discover  them  and  to 
protect  me  from  their  snares.  You  will,  in 
this  manner,  be  able  to  testify  your  grati- 
tude for  the  favors  I  am  disposed  to  bestow 
upon  you.  Should  I  sometimes,  in  the  pres- 


OR,    THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  113 

ence  of  your  companions,  scold  you  or 
speak  harshly,  you  may  be  certain  that 
there  is  nothing  serious  in  my  displeasure. 
And  now,  good  night." 

Michaelow  fervently  thanked  his  generous 
master,  and  he  continued  to  be  one  of  Men- 
shikoff's  most  devoted  servants.  However, 
he  carefully  refrained  from  assuming  the 
odious  character  of  informer,  nor  did  he  be- 
tray the  inconsiderate  remarks  of  his  associ- 
ates, or  report  their  faults.  The  prince, 
for  his  part,  apparently  paid  no  attention  to 
him ;  on  the  contrary,  his  indifference  was 
rather  marked.  If  alone  with  him,  he  was 
affectionate  in  his  manner  as  though  to 

O 

compensate  for  his  neglect  in  public. 

One  day,  nevertheless,  the  prince  acted 
towards  Michaelow  with  the  most  striking 
injustice.  At  every  turn  and  without  cause, 
he  reviled  him,  threatened  him  with  the 
knout  and  exile  to  Siberia,  and  refused  to 
accept  any  explanation  or  permit  a  word  to 
be  said  in  his  justification.  Michaelow 
could  not  comprehend  the  injustice  to 
which  he  had  been  subjected,  and  over- 
whelmed by  grief,  he  seated  himself  in  a  cor- 
8 


1 14  MENSHIKOFF  J 

rier  of  the  room  where  the  servants  of  the 
palace  were  accustomed  to  assemble. 
There,  resting  his  elbows  upon  the  table,  and 
covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  he  wept 
bitterly.  Willingly  would  he  have  given  all 
the  gold  he  had  received  from  the  prince, 
could  he  have  prevented  the  painful  scene 
through  which  he  had  just  passed.  Absor- 
bed in  his  own  sorrow,  he  did  not  notice  that 
all  his  companions  had  retired  with  the  ex- 
ception of  one,  named  Karpakan,  who  had 
always  testified  to  him  a  more  particular  at- 
tachment. After  a  few  moments  of  silence, 
Karpakan  said : 

"Come,  come,  Michaelow,  try  to  forgot 
what  has  just  passed.  Let  us  open  a  bottle 
of  wine  ;  nothing  will  so  quickly  divert  the 
current  of  your  thoughts." 

Saying  these  words,  he  placed  upon  the 
table  a  decanter  of  wine  and  two  glasses, 
which  he  filled  and  drank  to  the  health  of 
his  colleague. 

"  Our  master  is  a  singular  man,"  continued 
Karpakan.  "  One  is  never  sure  of  doing 
anything  to  suit  him.  I  can  complain  as 
well  as  you,  of  the  unjust  reproofs  he  has 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  Iij 

administered.  Nowadays,  an  upright  and 
loyal  heart  does  not  suffice  to  advance  one 
in  the  world.  Hypocrites  and  flatterers 
make  their  way  more  quickly  and  with  more 
facility.  What  is  left  to  be  done?  We 
must  howl  with  the  wolves  to  escape  being 
devoured  by  them.  I  must  acknowledge 
that  all  masters  are  not  of  the  same  stamp 
as  Prince  Menshikoff.  For  instance,  there 
is  young  Prince  Dolgourki.  In  his  estab- 
lishment, every  servant  is  treated  like  a 
prince,  although  this  lord  is  not  so  rich  as 
ours.  In  return  for  the  slightest  informa- 
tion as  to  what  passes  in  the  Menshikoff 
palace,  he  gives,  it  is  said,  a  handful  of  gold 
pieces.  If  I  knew  some  little  circumstance 
to  communicate,  I  could  make  a  nice  sum 
of  money.  It  is  only  necessary  to  hint 
through  a  third  individual  that  you  are  dis- 
posed to  gratify  his  curiosity,  and  he  forth- 
with slips  into  your  hand  several  roubles. 
I  confide  this  to  you  from  pure  friendship. 
But  do  not  speak  of  it  to  any  one  lest  there 
may  be  too  many  competitors  for  the  re- 
ward." 

Michaelow  paid  very  little   attention   to 


ii6  MENSHIKOFF; 

the  remarks  of  his  companion,  but  a  singu- 
lar circumstance  which  occurred  a  few  days 
later  brought  them  forcibly  to  mind.  His 
master  had  given  him  a  letter  of  importance 
for  one  of  the  high  officials  of  the  empire, 
and  he  was  preparing  to  execute  the  order 
immediately.  At  the  foot  of  the  staircase 
Karpakan  stopped  him  and  asked  to  see  the 
address  on  the  letter  which  he  held  in  his 
hand.  Michaelow  did  not  reply,  for  the 
strange  communication  made  to  him  by  his 
companion  flashed  across  his  mind. 

"If  you  wish,"  resumed  the  latter,"! 
will  go  in  your  place." 

This  proposition  aroused  a  still  stronger" 
suspicion  as  to  his  intentions,  and  Michaelow 
answered : 

"  No,  no.  The  prince  would  have  just 
grounds  to  reprove  me,  for  I  should  be  act- 
ing contrary  to  his  express  order." 

"  Listen  to  me,"  insisted  Karpakan,  low- 
ering his  voice.  "  I  promise  you  on  oath,  if 
you  will  entrust  this  letter  to  me  for  only 
ten  minutes,  to  give  you  a  rouble  for  each 
minute." 

"  It   is   useless  to  talk   longer  upon  the 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE. 

subject,"  replied  Michaelow.  "  I  see  through 
your  intention.  You  wish  to  test  my  hon- 
esty and  assure  yourself  if  I  am  faithful  to 
duty." 

"  Excellent  Michaelow  !  "  exclaimed  the 
tempter,  "  You  have  nobly  sustained  the 
trial  to  which  you  were  subjected.  I  can 
now  tell  you  that  our  master  tries  in  a 
similar  manner  all  his  servants,  and  he 
selects  to  carry  out  his  designs  those  who 
have  shown  themselves  the  most  worthy  of 
his  confidence.  I  was  appointed  by  him  to 
make  proof  of  your  fidelity,  and  I  shall  at 
once  inform  him  that  he  can  trust  you  with- 
out hesitation.  Regard  your  fortune  al- 
ready secured,  my  dear  friend." 

Karpakan  pronounced  these  words  in  an 
affectionate  manner,  but  as  his  companion 
moved  on,  he  stamped  his  foot  and  mut- 
tered between  his  teeth  : 

"  The  bottle  of  wine  was  wasted  upon  a 
fool.  But  no  matter,  we  will  see  that  he 
receives  the  reward  of  his  integrity." 

Michaelow  considered  that  duty  required 
him  to  inform  the  prince  of  what  had 
passed  between  himself  and  Karpakan. 


Il8  MENSHIKOFF; 

"  You  have  done  well,  my  son,"  replied 
Menshikoff,  after  hearing  the  account  given 
by  the  young  man.  "  Do  not  mention  the 
circumstance  to  any  one,  and  banish  all 
anxiety." 

Notwithstanding  his  master's  encourag- 
ing words,  Michaelow  was  in  a  few  weeks, 
exposed  to  a  new  ordeal.  Four  silver  can- 
dlesticks were  missing  after  a  dinner  given 
by  the  prince  to  several  high  officials  of  the 
empire.  It  was  impossible  for  the  theft  to 
have  been  committed  by  any  one  not  fa- 
miliar with  the  interior  arrangements  of  the 
palace,  and  suspicion  necessarily  fell  upon 
those  who  were  in  the  employ  of  the  prince. 
The  steward  was  highly  indignant,  and  de- 
clared that,  cost  what  it  might,  the  candle- 
sticks should  be  found.  Every  room  in  the 
palace  was  searched  from  the  garret  to  the 
cellar.  They  were  discovered  in  Michaelow's 
bed.  The  poor  young  man  was  so  over- 
powered when  informed  of  the  fact  that  he 
was  unable  to  stand,  but  fell  as  though  he 
had  received  a  heavy  blow. 

When  the  prince  was  made  acquainted 
with  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  he 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  119 

assembled  all  his  attendants  in  a  hall. 
Michealow  was  deeply  humiliated  as  he  saw 
every  eye  fixed  upon  him.  He  was  particu- 
larly struck  by  the  scoffing  expression  with 
which  Karpakan  regarded  him.  Menshikoff 
entered  the  apartment,  and  glanced  rapidly 
around  until  he  perceived  Karpakan,  when 
giving  vent  to  his  anger,  he  exclaimed  in  a 
terrible  tone : 

"  Wretch  !  you  stole  the  candlesticks  and 
concealed  them  in  Michaelow's  bed  in  order 
to  implicate  that  honest  boy,  who  had  re- 
fused to  become  an  accomplice  in  the 
odious  treason  you  were  planning  against 
me.  To  accomplish  your  infamous  act,  you 
used  a  false  key  to  enter  Michaelow's  room ; 
it  was  made  for  you  by  the  locksmith, 
Frasikoff,  and  you  now  wear  it  around  your 
neck  in  a  leathern  bag.  I  know  all  that 
goes  on  in  my  house.  I  know  that  you  are 
employed  as  a  spy  by  my  enemies.  But 
traitors  receive  always  the  chastisement 
they  deserve,  and  your  punishment  shall  be 
equivalent  to  your  crime." 

Then  addressing  two  grooms  he  said  : 

"  Search  that  scoundrel." 


I2o  MENSIIIKOFF; 

Pale  as  a  corpse,  and  trembling  in  every 
limb,  Karpakan  did  not  attempt  to  utter  a 
word  in  his  justification.  The  false  key  was 
found  in  a  leathern  bag  suspended  around 
his  neck,  as  Menshikoff  had  said.  It  was 
impossible  for  him  to  deny  his  guilt,  and  he 
was  condemned  to  be  sent  immediately  to 
Siberia. 

Menshikoff  next  addressed  his  attendants 
in  a  severe  manner : 

"  Beware  of  deceiving  or  betraying  me.  I 
know  you  well ;  if  I  have  spared  the  traitor 
who  still  remains  among  you,  let  him  be  as- 
sured that  it  is  only  to  leave  him  time  to  fill 
up  the  measure  of  his  iniquities,  before  I 
deal  the  blow  which  justice  demands.  As 
to  you,  Michaelow,  to  compensate  you  for 
the  mental  suffering  you  have  endured,  you 
shall  have  the  value  in  money  of  the  four 
candlesticks.  This  will  also  be  a  recom- 
pense for  your  fidelity." 

The  prince  had  become  acquainted  in  the 
most  natural  manner  with  the  circumstances 
preceding  and  following  the  theft.  His  at- 
tention having  been  called  to  Karpakan  by 
the  revelation  of  Miebaelow,  he  charged  his 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  121 

spies  to  watch  the  movements  of  his  perfid- 
ious servant,  who  was  thus  detected  in  his 
designs. 

The  scene  which  they  had  just  witnessed 
made  a  deep  impression  upon  the  attend- 
ants of  Menshikoff,  who  adroitly  took  ad- 
vantage of  it  to  confirm  them  in  the  idea 
that  he  was  fully  aware  of  all  that  transpired 
in  the  palace.  The  unjust  suspicion  cast 
upon  him  also  turned  to  the  profit  of 
Michaelow ;  for,  not  only  was  his  purse 
filled  with  gold  pieces  by  the  generosity  of 
his  master,  but  he  also  received  many  proofs 
of  affection  from  him  ;  in  return,  he  loved 
him  daily  more  and  more. 

Many  hard  things  are  said  about  Menshi- 
koff, he  thought  within  himself.  It  may.  be 
that  all  his  actions  are  not  strictly  conform- 
able to  the  principles  of  justice,  but  after  all, 
it  is  not  my  place  to  constitute  myself  the 
judge  of  my  master.  My  duty  is  to  be 
faithful  to  him,  and  that  I  am  determined 
to  be,  so  long  as  he  retains  me  in  his  service. 

The  amount  equivalent  to  the  value  of  the 
candlesticks  had  just  been  sent  him  by  the 
steward,  when  a  boy  informed  him  that  a 


122  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

woman  and  a  young  girl  had  asked  to  see 
him,  and  were  waiting  at  the  door  of  the 
palace. 

"Humph!"  grumbled  Michaelow,  "my 
acquaintances  in  St.  Petersburg  are  not  so 
numerous  that  I  should  have  visitors  inquir- 
ing for  me." 

However,  he  descended  and  found  in  the 
hall  a  woman  and  young  girl,  both  dressed 
in  the  costume  usually  worn  by  the  peas- 
antry of  the  environs  of  Moscow. 

As  soon  as  his  eye  rested  upon  them,  he 
exclaimed  in  a  transport  of  joy:"O  my 
dear  mother,"  and  embraced  her  and  his  sis- 
ter with  all  the  tenderness  and  affection  of  a 
devoted  son  and  brother. 

'i  What  miracle  has  brought  me  this  hap- 
piness? "  he  asked. 

"The  miracle  was  performed  by  yourself," 
replied  Matinka.  "We  thought  we  could 
not  better  employ  a  part  of  the  roubles  you 
bestow  upon  us,  than  by  coming  to  St.  Pe- 
tersburg to  see  you,  and  visit  the  new  city 
of  which  we  have  heard  so  frequently." 

"  You  have  done  well,  dear  mother,"  an- 
swered the  happy  son.  "  But  I  shall  defray 


OR,    THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  I2J 

the  expenses  of  the  journey.  For,  you 
must  know,"  he  added,  making  the  gold  coin 
ring  in  his  pocket,  "that  I  have  enough 
money  to  pay  it  ten  times  over." 

"  My  child,"  said  the  mother,  "  to  see  you 
possessed  of  so  much,  is  a  cause  of  anxiety 
to  me.  Your  master  must  be  very  wealthy, 
if  he  gives  such  wages  to  his  servants  as  to 
enable  them  all  to  lay  aside  the  amount  you 
can  save." 

Michaelow  tranquillized  her  by  relating 
the  story  of  the  four  candlesticks.  The 
good  woman  appeared  touched  by  the  gener- 
osity of  the  prince,  wiped  away  the  tears 
which  filled  her  eyes,  and  said  : 

"  Ah  !  if  he  is  good  to  you,  how  could  he 
have  been  so  harsh  towards  " 

Here  she  stopped,  as  though  influenced 
by  fear  in  giving  utterance  to  her  thoughts. 

"You  mean,"  added  her  son,  "towards 
others  often  in  much  higher  position.  But 
we  will  not  speak  of  that,  as  it  does  not  con- 
cern us." 

"You  do  not  understand  me,  my  son. 
But  tell  me  how  does  he  conduct  himself  in 
regard  to  his  wife  and  children?" 


124  MENSHIKOFF; 

"  In  the  kindest  manner.  Their  every 
wish  is  gratified." 

The  mother  sighed  and  cast  down  her 
eyes  in  order  to  conceal  her  tears. 

"  Could  we  see  him  at  a  distance,"  she 
continued,  "  without  being  seen  by  him?" 

"  Oh  !  There  would  be  no  difficulty  what- 
ever in  that.  The  antechamber  is  filled 
every  day  with  a  crowd  of  people  who 
await  the  prince  in  order  to  present  petitions 
as  he  passes.  On  such  occasions  he  rarely 
notices  any  one,  and  you  can  see  him  as  near 
as  you  choose. 

"Dear  Florent,"  ....  said  Helen  eagerly. 

The  mother,  hearing  her  pronounce  her 
brother's  real  name,  hastily  interrupted  her, 
reminding  her  to  be  prudent. 

"  Indeed,"  resumed  Helen  laughing,  "  I 
forgot  that  your  name  here  was  Michaelow. 
And  yet  Florent  is  not  the  synonyme  of 
crimijial.  Still,  as  our  mother  here  wishes  it, 
I  will  try  for  the  present  to  call  you 
Michaelow.  Could  we,  dear  brother,  be  ad- 
mitted to  the  apartment  of  the  prince?  I 
would  so  much  like  to  have  an  idea  of  the 
home  of  so  great  a  personage." 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   FRINGE.  1 25 

"  I  think  I  can  gratify  you,  but  it  must  be 
upon  a  day  when  the  prince  does  not  dine 
at  home.  I  will  ask  permission  of  the 
steward  for  your  entrance.  I  am  sure  he 
will  not  refuse  me." 

As  Michaelow  said  these  words,  a  splendid 
vehicle  drove  rapidly  by  them  and  entered 
the  gate  of  the  palace. 

As  soon  as  it  appeared  the  young  man  re- 
moved his  cap  and  said  : 

"  It  is  the  prince.  I  am  obliged  to  leave 
you  now,  as  my  duty  requires  me  to  be  in 
attendance  on  his  lordship ;  but  I  shall  be 
free  at  four  o'clock.  Where  shall  I  find 
you?" 

The  mother  heard  not  a  word  her  son  said. 
As  the  carriage  approached,  she  turned 
deathly  pale,  and  followed  it  with  her  eyes 
until  it  disappeared  beyond  the  gate. 
Helen  answered  the  question  of  her  brother, 
who  hastily  bade  them  adieu  and  re-entered 
the  palace. 

The  prince  had  evidently  obtained  some 
new  favor ;  for  he  was  in  high  spirits  when 
Michaelow  helped  him  to  change  his  court- 
dress. 


126  MENSHIKOFF; 

"  Michaelow,"  he  said  to  him,  "I  saw 
you  just  now  engaged  in  conversation  with 
a  very  pretty  young  girl.  I  was  almost 
afraid  you  would  forget  to  attend  upon 
me." 

"  You  need  never  fear,  my  lord,"  replied 
Michaelow,  respectfully,"  that  I  would  for- 
get my  duty,  although  I  was  overjoyed  to 
see  my  mother  and  sister,  who  came  unex- 
pectedly to  St.  Petersburg  to  visit  me." 

"  I  can  readily  understand  your  happi- 
ness/' said  Menshikoff.  Does  your  mother 
live  near  here?"  "  No,  my  lord  ;  she  lives 
in  the  vicinity  of  Moscow,  at  the  little  vil- 
lage of  Semesnouski." 

The  prince  changed  color,  became  pen- 
sive, and  was  silent  for  a  few  moments. 
Then  he  resumed:  "In  what  manner  do 
you  intend  to  amuse  your  mother  and  sis- 
ter during  their  stay  in  the  capital?" 

"Their  greatest  desire  is  to  see  your 
Highness,  and  then  ....  if  your  Highness 
will  permit  it,  the  interior  of  the  palace." 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Menshikoff,  flat- 
tered by  the  request.  Their  wish  is  easily 
gratified,  and  as  I  dine  out  with  the  prin- 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  I2/ 

ess  and'  the  children,  you  may  give  them 
that  pleasure  to-day.  During  our  absence, 
you  may  conduct  your  mother  and  sister 
through  all  the  apartments,  and  do  not 
neglect  to  direct  the  cook  to  prepare  dinner 
for  your  visitors,  whom  you  must  not  send 
away  fasting." 

Touched  by  the  kindness  of  his  master, 
Michaelow  kissed  his  hand  to  testify  his 
gratitude,  and  as  soon  as  the  family  had  de- 
parted, he  hastened  to  notify  his  mother 
and  Helen  that  they  could  go  at  once  to 
the  palace. 

Matinka,  however,  seemed  more  occupied 
by  her  own  thoughts  than  by  all  the  luxury 
which  surrounded  her. 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Helen,  on  entering  a 
hall,  "how  polished  and  shining  the  floor 
is!  It  is  as  beautiful  as  a  piece  of  furni- 
ture." 

"Yes,"  said  the  mother,  "  as  smooth  as 
the  tongues  of  great  lords.  One  easily  trips 
upon  them." 

"  I  acknowledge,"  answered  Michaelow, 
"that  I  was  very  uneasy  the  first  time  I 
trod  upon  the  floor.  I  trembled  like  a  leaf 


128  MENSHIKOFF; 

when  I  was  obliged  to  place  a  dish  upon 
the  table.  Suppose  I  should  fall !  I  said  to 
myself.  But  now  I  laugh  at  my  former 
fears." 

"Just  like  the  great  lords  who  laugh  at 
the  dangers  by  which  they  are  encom- 
passed," observed  Matinka. 

"  Look,  mother,"  cried  Helen,  "'at  that 
immense  mirror ! " 

And  placing  herself  before  it,  she  re- 
garded her  image  with  complacency. 

"Ah!  why  cannot  men  see  reflected  in 
the  mirror  their  defects  and  vices  also!" 
murmured  Matinka,  shaking  her  head. 

"  Why,  mother,"  said  Michaelow,  "you 
seem  wholly  unlike  yourself.  Instead  of 
admiring  the  beautiful  things  around  you 
you  look  sad  and  melancholy." 

"You  might  naturally  imagine, . my  son, 
that  my  words  were  inspired  by  envy. 
May  God  preserve  me  from  such  a  vice !  " 

"  Mother,"  resumed  Michaelow,  leading 
her  to  a  mantle,  "  is  not  that  a  magnificent 
clock?  Many  kings  have  none  to  compare 
with  it.  The  figure  of  the  man  holding  in 
one  hand  an  hour-glass,  and  in  the  other  a 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  1 29 

scythe,  represents  the  god  of  Time.  He  is 
said  to  have  eaten  his  own  children  because 
of  a  prediction  that  his  son  would  dethrone 
him.  The  prediction,  however,  was  veri- 
fied ;  for,  his  wife  having  given  birth  to  a 
son,  concealed  him,  and  presented  to  her 
husband,  instead  of  the  new-born  child,  a 
stone,  which  he  swallowed  without  perceiv- 
ing the  fraud.  But  when  the  son  grew  up, 
he  precipitated  his  old  father  from  the 
throne  of  heaven  and  took  possession  of  it 
himself.  It  is  thus  that  pagan  history  re- 
lates the  event.  The  wings  on  the  old 
man's  shoulders  denote  the  rapid  flight  of 
time  ;  and  the  scythe  indicates  that  he  cuts 
men  off  in  the  midst  of  their  earthly  career, 
as  the  reaper  mows  the  grain  in  the  field." 

"A  fine  history  of  the  pagan  gods!"  ex- 
claimed Matinka,  almost  angrily.  "A  father 
devouring  his  children  !  I  am  no  longer 
astonished  to  see  a  father  discarding  his 
wife  and  children  when  they  prove  an 
obstacle  to  his  ambition  and  cupidity.  A 
mother  would  be  incapable  of  such  an  act. 
And  then  the  unnatural  son  does  not  hesi- 
tate to  maltreat  his  blind  old  father. 
9 


130  MENSHIKOFF; 

Blind?  A  god  blind!  No,  no,  tell  me  no 
more  such  stories.  How  good  is  the  God 
whom  we  adore  in  comparison  with  those 
whose  crimes  you  have  just  related !  He 
is  not  blind,  and  He  can  never  be  deceived, 
although  hypocrites  try  to  persuade  them- 
selves to  the  contrary.  And  how  good  is 
the  Son  of  our  God  !  Instead  of  dethron- 
ing his  Father,  he  leaves  his  throne  in 
heaven,  takes  the  form  of  man,  and  dies 
in  submission  to  His  divine  Father  and 
through  love  of  man.  I  am  astonished, 
however,  that  great  personages  can  tolerate 
in  their  apartments  such  an  image,  which 
necessarily  must  remind  them  of  their 
approaching  end.  They  generally  tremble 
at  the  mere  mention  of  death,  and  the 
angel  of  death,  who  is  a  consolation  to 
those  in  an  humble  condition  like  ourselves, 
is  to  them  a  frightful  spectre."  .... 

"  Mother,"  interrupted  Michaelow,  "  I  see 
you  are  out  of  sorts  to-day.  Come  with  me 
and  I  will  show  you  something  which  will 
charm  you." 

The  door  he  threw  open  gave  access  to  a 
room  magnificently  furnished.  As  they 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  131 

crossed  the  threshold  they  were  dazzled  by 
the  sight  of  a  superb  full  length  portrait  in 
an  elegant  broad  gold  frame.  It  was  the 
portrait  of  Menshikoff. 

"  It  is  himself  !  "  exclaimed  Matinka,  has- 
tily approaching  the  portrait.  "  It  is  himself, 
somewhat  older  than  formerly,  but  a  per- 
fect resemblance !  " 

"  Do  you  know  the  prince  ? "  asked 
Michaelow  in  surprise.  "  I  thought  you 
had  never  seen  him." 

"  Child,"  replied  the  mother  in  a  tremu- 
lous voice,  "you  do  not  understand. 
Your  own  father  was  just  such  a  man,  only 
he  did  not  wear  such  decorations  and  chains 
around  his  neck,  and  he  looked  more  cheer- 
ful and  affectionate.  What  a  striking  like- 
ness. Helen,  do  you  not  think  that  Mi- 
chaelow resembles  the  prince?" 

"  The  thought  this  moment  occurred  to 
me,"  said  Helen. 

Matinka  continued  looking  first  at  the 
picture  and  then  at  her  son,  comparing 
them  in  her  own  mind.  Tears  filled  her 
eyes,  and  at  last  she  said  with  emotion: 

"  It    is  many  years   since   you   departed 


132  MENSHIKOFF; 

from  us.  At  least  I  hope  you  are  happy 
now  ;  once  you  were  an  excellent  husband, 
a  devoted  father  !  " 

"How  can  you  doubt  it,  mother?  "  said 
the  children.  "  Certainly  he  is  in  heaven 
where  there  is  incomparably  more  happiness 
than  on  earth." 

The  mother  sighed,  and  was  so  riveted  to 
the  spot  by  the  portrait,  that  Michaelow 
could  with  difficulty  induce  her  to  pass 
into  another  room. 

"  This  is  the  cabinet,"  he  said,  as  he 
introduced  the  two  into  an  apartment  fur- 
nished with  equal  magnificence.  "There  is 
the  prince's  escritoire,  and  this  is  his  arm- 
chair." 

"  My  children,"  said  the  mother  with  a 
sad  smile,  "  you  will  be  amused  to  hear  me 
say  I  would  like  very  much  to  know  how 
one  feels  when  seated  in  such  a  chair  as  the 
prince's.  Michaelow,  could  I  sit  in  it  for  a 
moment  ?  To  tell  the  truth,  I  am  almost 
exhausted  by  the  fatigue  of  walking  and 
standing  for  such  a  length  of  time.  I  will 
be  careful  not  to  crease  the  superb  cover- 
ing." 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  133 

"Certainly,  sit  down,  mother,"  replied 
the  son.  "  The  prince  will  never  notice  it. 
When  he  is  seated  there,  his  mind  is  occu- 
pied by  more  important  affairs." 

Matinka  took  her  seat,  closed  her  eyes 
and  leaned  her  head  against  the  cushioned 
back. 

"  Mother,  what  is  the  matter?  How  pale 
you  are  !  "  exclaimed  Michaelow  in  alarm,  as 
he  perceived  a  deathlike  palor  overspread 
her  face. 

"  Oh  !  nothing,"  answered  Matinka,  open- 
ing her  eyes  and  smiling.  "  On  the  con- 
trary, I  feel  well  here,  and  so  happy  that  it 
would  be  sweet  to  die." 

Placing  her  hand  on  the  arm  of  the  chair 
and  gently  stroking  the  velvet,  she  contin- 
ued : 

".I  suppose  your  master's  hand  has  often 
rested  upon  this  spot.  What  happiness  to 
me  to  lay  mine  on  it  likewise  !  I  have  now 
one  more  desire.  It  would  be  an  extreme 
gratification  to  me  to  carry  away  with  me  a 
trifle,  a  mere  nothing  ;  It  would  be  a  precious 
souvenir  to  me,  provided  it  had  been  used 
by  the  prince." 


134  MENSHIKOFF; 

To  please  his  mother,  Michaelow  glanced 
around,  hoping  to  find  some  small  article 
of  which  he  would  be  at  liberty  to  dispose. 

Taking  an  old  pen  of  no  further  use  from 
an  inkstand,  he  handed  it  to  her,  saying : 

"The  prince  has  often  had  this  in  his 
hand,  and  I  can  take  it  without  scruple.  I 
must  acknowledge,  however,  that  his  High- 
ness often  sets  more  value  on  the  most 
insignificant  objects  than  upon  articles  of 
great  price.  For  example,  his  crosses,  his 
diamonds,  jewels  and  other  costly  decora- 
tions are  under  my  charge.  But  among  the 
boxes  containing  all  these  valuables,  there  is 
an  old  leathern  case  which  he  opens  only  on 
certain  days,  and  draws  from  it  a  small  silver 
ring  ;  this  he  holds  in  his  hand  and  contem- 
plates for  a  long  time ;  then  he  himself  re- 
places it  in  the  case,  never  permitting  any 
one  else  to  touch  it.  It  was  by  mere  acci- 
dent that  I  had  a  chance  to  examine  it  one 
day,  when  he  was  summoned  to  go  without 
delay  to  the  imperial  apartments,  and  he  was 
forced  to  permit  me  to  return  it  to  its 
case." 

"  A  silver  ring  !     A  leathern  case !  "  ex- 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  135 

claimed  the  mother,  glancing  with  evident 
emotion  at  the  ring  she  wore  on  her  finger. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Michaelow,  noticing  the 
movement  of  his  mother,  "  a  ring  exactly 
like  the  one  you  wear." 

Matinka  turned  quickly  towards  the 
window  in  order  to  conceal  her  feelings. 
Overjoyed,  she  pressed  her  hands  upon  her 
heart,  and  said  to  herself  : 

"  Then  my  Alexander  has  not  altogether 
forgotten  his  Matinka  !  " 

"And  here,"  continued  her  son,  as  he 
opened  another  door,  "is  his  Highness'  bed- 
room. See  the  silver  basins,  the  rich  car- 
pets and  crystal  vases.  The  princess  has 
her  apartments  with  her  daughters'  rooms 
near  hers;  I  would  like  to  show  them  to 
you,  as  well  as  the  other  parts  of  the  palace, 
but  as  they  are  contiguous  to  the  wing 
which  is  occupied  by  the  young  emperor, 
there  are  always  so  many  passing  and  re- 
passing  that  you  would  find  it  disagreeable. 
The  young  emperor  dwells  under  the  same 
roof  as  his  future  father-in-law,  in  order  to  be 
nearer  his  betrothed  and  the  prince,  from 
whom  he  does  not  like  to  be  absent  for  an 


136  MENSHIKOFF; 

instant.  Now  that  you  have  seen  the  home 
of  his  Highness,  come  and  partake  of  the 
excellent  dinner  which  he  directed  should  be 
prepared  for  you.  We  will  drink  to  his 
health  and  to-morrow  morning,  if  you  station 
yourself  in  the  antechamber,  you  can  see 
him  as  he  passes." 

"  No,  no,"  replied  the  mother,  "  I  will 
not  do  that.  The  prince  might  speak  to  us, 
and  on  no  consideration  would  I  be  willing 
for  that." 

"But  what  harm  would  that  do  you?" 
asked  Michaelow. 

"Never,  never!"  said  Matinka  with 
vehemence.  "  Let  us  leave  the  palace 
immediately;  the  prince  might  surprise  us 
here,  and  for  all  the  world  I  would  not  meet 
him." 

Michaelow,  ignorant  of  the  real  motive  of 
his  mother's  determination,  urged  her  to 
remain,  telling  her  that  her  fears  were 
groundless;  but  Matinka,  in  spite  of  the 
representations  of  her  son,  refused  to  yield 
to  his  entreaties.  She  scarcely  touched  the 
dinner  which  was  served  for  them,  and 
regained  her  tranquillity  only  after  entering 


OR,   THE    PEASANT   PRINCE.  137 

the  modest  dwelling  in  which  she  had  taken 
lodgings  upon  her  arrival  at  St.  Petersburg. 
Having  spent  four  days  in  the  capital, 
she  set  out  for  a  small  town  in  Siberia, 
where  her  brother  held  an  inferior  office 
under  government.  On  taking  a  tearful 
leave  of  her  son  she  recommended  him  to 
remain  faithful  to  his  master.  Michaelow 
wept  bitterly  on  parting  with  his  mother 
and  sister,  and  accompanied  them  with  his 
best  wishes  on  the  long  journey  they  were 
about  to  undertake. 


138  MENSHIKOFF; 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   FALL. 

MENSHIKOFF  had  filled  up  the  measure 
of  his  evil  deeds,  and  the  hour  of  his  chas- 
tisement was  at  hand.  His  elevation  from 
obscurity  to  the  highest  offices  of  the  empire, 
his  immense  wealth,  and  the  favor  of  the 
Czar  had  excited  the  envy  of  some.  His 
arrogance,  his  oppressive  government,  and 
the  abuse  of  the  power  entrusted  to  him  by 
his  sovereign,  inspired  others  with  a  bitter 
hatred.  Nearly  all  at  court  were  his  ene- 
mies, and  for  a  long  time  they  had  been 
secretly  plotting  his  downfall.  One  among 
them,  Prince  Dolgoruki,  having  obtained 
the  post  of  chamberlain,  succeeded  in  insin- 
uating himself  in  the  good  graces  of  the 
Emperor  so  as  to  become  indispensable  to 
him.  This  officer,  by  degrees  and  with  con- 
summate art,  undermined  the  influence  of 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  139 

Menshikoff.  A  recent  peculation  of  the  in- 
satiable regent  furnished  the  opportunity  of 
ruining  him  and  hurling  him  from  his  high 
position.  The  sovereign,  having  granted  to 
his  sister  a  large  sum  of  money,  directed 
Menshikoff  to  forward  it  to  its  destination ; 
but  the  latter  boldly  appropriated  the 
whole  amount  which  had  been  committed 
to  his  charge.  Dolgoruki,  informed  of  the 
embezzlement  by  his  spies,  communicated 
the  affair  to  the  Czar,  and  by  artful  and 
perfidious  suggestions  inflamed  his  anger  to 
the  highest  pitch.  Menshikoff  had  no  sus- 
picion of  the  storm  which  was  about  to 
burst  over  his  head.  One  morning  on 
going  according  to  his  daily  custom  to  offer 
his  homage  to  the  Czar,  he  was  startled  to 
find  the  imperial  apartments  entirely  .de- 
serted. Not  a  courtier,  not  the  most  infe- 
rior officer,  not  even  a  servant,  was  to  be 
seen.  Terrified,  and  filled  with  the  appre- 
hension of  some  overwhelming  misfortune, 
he  dispatched  a  messenger  to  inquire  what 
had  become  of  the  Czar,  and  whither  he 
had  gone.  To  his  extreme  vexation  he  was 
informed  that  the  Emperor  had  departed 


140  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

stealthily  from  the  dwelling  of  his  tutor, 
and  without  leaving  a  word  of  explanation 
as  to  the  cause  of  his  conduct,  had  estab- 
lished himself  in  his  own  palace.  This 
news  was  a  thunderbolt  to  the  prince.  He 
comprehended  at  once  whence  the  blow 
came  and  saw  clearly  it  was  the  work  of 
his  enemies.  His  first  thought,  therefore, 
was  to  make  every  effort  to  frustrate  their 
plans  and  regain  the  favor  of  his  sovereign. 
For  this  purpose  he  drove  immediately  to 
the  imperial  palace ;  but  in  a  short  time 
the  carriage  of  the  prince  was  seen  to 
return.  He  alighted  from  it  as  pale  as  a 
corpse,  and  he  had  scarcely  the  strength  to 
ascend  the  staircase.  Rage  and  grief  were 
depicted  upon  his  countenance.  The  Czar 
had  refused  to  admit  him,  had  not  received 
his  future  father-in-law,  the  father  of  his 
affianced  bride ! 

On  seeing  the  condition  of  the  prince, 
his  wife  and  children  gathered  around 
him,  anxiously  inquiring  the  cause  of  his 
trouble. 

"  O  my  poor  child  ! "  he  exclaimed,  re- 
garding with  commiseration  his  elder  daugh- 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  141 

ter,  "to  what  a  harsh  man  you  are 
betrothed." 

After  a  few  moments  he  continued : 

"  Leave  me,  my  dear  wife,  go,  my  chil- 
dren ;  I  wish  to  be  alone  to  collect  my 
thoughts  and  review  our  present  situation." 

Burning  with  fever  and  agitated  by  a 
thousand  contending  feelings,  he  paced 
the  floor  of  his  apartment.  A  half  hour 
had  thus  passed  when  an  imperial  dispatch 
was  handed  him.  He  tore  it  open  and  ran 
his  eye  rapidly  over  the  contents.  How 
little  was  he  prepared  for  the  outrage  done 
him  !  The  Czar  announced  to  him  that  he 
was  deprived  of  all  his  dignities  and  offices, 
that  he  was  no  longer  permitted  to  remain 
in  the  capital,  which  he  must  quit  that  very 
day,  and  repair  to  the  castle  of  Oranien- 
baum,  the  place  assigned  for  his  future  resi- 
dence. 

Stunned  by  the  unexpected  blow,  he 
remained  for  a  while  motionless  and  as  if 
insensible.  Springing  from  the  chair  upon 
which  he  had  fallen,  he  trampled  under  foot 
the  Emperor's  letter,  and  in  an  outburst  of 
an^er  exclaimed : 


142  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

"And  this  is  the  reason  the  herd  of 
courtiers  and  flatterers  regarded  me  so  inso- 
lently and  defiantly  as  I  passed  through 
their  midst  !  Why  was  I  so  blind  as  not  to 
have  observed  in  time  the  fall  of  the  barom- 
eter of  court  favor?  What!  I  governed 
the  state  to  the  satisfaction  of  a  Peter  the 
Great  and  a  Catherine,  and  I  am  of  no 
account  in  the  eyes  of  a  youth  thirteen 
years  old  !  What !  A  public  humiliation ! 
Is  this  the  recompense  for  thirty  years  of 
toil,  devotion  and  sacrifice  ?  I  have  crawled 
on  the  ground ;  my  heart  has  often  been 
lacerated ;  I  have  labored,  watched,  trem- 
bled, flattered ;  I  have  been  a  hypocrite ;  I 
have  acted  contrary  to  the  law  of  God  by 
casting  off  a  devoted  wife  and  children  who 
were  dear  to  me.  All  this  have  I  done ; 
and  a  heedless  boy  under  my  guardianship 
destroys  in  an  instant  the  fruit  of  the  work 
of  my  whole  life.  No,  that  shall  never  be, 
never! " 

He  pulled  the  bell  rope  violently. 

"Go  notify  the  Lieutenant-Colonel  of  my 
regiment  that  I  wish  to  see  him  imme- 
diately with  all  his  officers,"  was  the  order 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  143 

given  the  servant  who  responded  to  the 
call. 

The  princess,  who  overheard  the  direc- 
tions of  her  husband,  rushed  into  the  apart- 
ment. 

"  In  the  name  of  Heaven  what  are  you 
about  to  do  ?  "  she  exclaimed  in  an  agony 
of  fear. 

"  I  am  going  to  maintain  and  defend  the 
rights  of  my  daughter,"  replied  Menshikoff 
vehemently.  "Emperor  as  he  is,  he  has  no 
right  to  treat  the  daughter  of  a  prince  as  if 
she  were  a  peasant." 

"  Oh !  my  dear  Alexander,  your  anger 
leads  you  astray.  You  will  draw  down  mis- 
fortunes of  every  kind  upon  our  heads. 
Renounce  all  such  projects,  I  conjure  you." 

"  What!  "  cried  Menshikoff,  still  more  in- 
furiated by  the  opposition  of  his  wife,  "  am 
I  not  Commander-in-chief  of  the  Russian 
forces?  Three  hundred  thousand  men  obey 
my  orders,  and  at  their  head  I  can  brave  the 
anger  of  my  ward." 

"  They  were  once  under  your  command," 
pursued  the  princess,  "  but  the  same  hand 
which  made  you  their  chief,  has  withdrawn 


144  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

from  you  the  dignity.  Your  rebellion  might 
cost  us  all  our  lives." 

Menshikoff  saw  at  once  the  truth  of  the 
remark,  and  controlling  by  degrees  his  vio- 
lent emotion,  he  was  able  to  meet  with  a 
sad  but  calm  countenance,  the  officers  whom 
he  had  summoned  to  his  presence.  He 
thus  addressed  them  : 

"  My  faithful  companions-in-arms,  you 
perhaps  already  know  the  heavy  blow  which 
has  been  dealt  me.  I  have  been  deprived  of 
all  my  offices  and  dignities.  I  desired,  before 
retiring  to  the  place  of  exile  which  has  been 
assigned  me,  to  see  once  more  those  who 
have  ever  testified  for  me  so  great  an  affec- 
tion and  so  loyal  an  attachment.  Receive 
my  last  adieu,  with  the  assurance  that  I 
shall  always  cherish  for  you  a  grateful  and 
tender  remembrance.  The  sword  I  wear 
was  the  inestimable  gift  of  the  late  Emperor, 
and  I  cannot  better  dispose  of  it,  than  by 
leaving  it  in  the  hands  of  valiant  men.  Ac- 
cept it  in  testimony  of  my  gratitude." 

As  he  spoke,  he  detached  from  his  cinc- 
ture the  magnificent  sword  studded  with 
diamonds  and  precious  stones,  handed  it  to 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  145 

the  Lieutenant-Colonel,  and  embraced  him 
with  emotion. 

All  the  officers  were  deeply  moved.  They 
drew  their  swords  from  the  scabbards  and 
swore  to  remain  faithful  to  their  chief,  and 
to  defend  his  rights  even  at  the  peril  of 
their  lives. 

"General,"  they  exclaimed,  "place  your- 
self at  our  head,  lead  the  way,  and  we  .will 
follow  wherever  you  may  go." 

"  No,  my  friends,"  replied  Menshikoff, 
"  I  will  never  permit  so  many  brave  and 
noble  men  to  risk  their  lives  for  an  old  man 
who  is  weary  of  the  world  and  its  trials.  I 
therefore  bid  you  adieu,  exhorting  you  to 
preserve  towards  the  Emperor  the  fidelity 
you  owe  him  ;  forget  Alexander  Menshikoff, 
who  departs  to  complete,  in  shame  and  hu- 
miliation, the  career  which  has  hitherto 
been  so  brilliant." 

The  officers  reluctantly  yielded  to  his 
wishes.  All  these  men,  who  had  distin- 
guished themselves  on  many  a  battle-field, 
wept  like  children  as  they  took  leave  of 
their  ancient  chief,  who  embraced  them  with 
the  affection  of  a  father. 
10 


146  MENSHIKOFF ; 

The  trying  scene  was  over  and  Menshi- 
koff,  exhausted  by  emotion  and  the  control 
he  had  been  forced  to  retain  over  his  feel- 
ings, threw  himself  on  a  chair. 

"Are  you  pleased  with  what  I  have 
done  ?  "  he  asked  of  his  wife,  who  joined 
him  as  soon  as  she  knew  he  was  alone. 

"You  have  shown  yourself  to  be  truly 
great,"  she  replied.  "You  have  just  gained 
the  most  difficult  of  all  victories — the  vic- 
tory over  self.  From  this  moment  you  be- 
long entirely  to  your  family ;  henceforth, 
you  are  free  from  the  harassing  cares  which 
have  wholly  occupied  you.  Oh,  how  'happy 
we  shall  be  !  There  still  remain  to  you  vast 
possessions,  a  large  fortune,  your  wife  and 
children.  You  have  made  Russia  great, 
powerful  and  prosperous ;  and  now  after  a 
brilliant  career,  you  descend  voluntarily 
from  the  theatre  of  your  glory." 

The  princess  thus  sought  to  console  her 
husband,  but  the  calmness  he  exhibited  was 
only  exterior.  Wounded  pride  and  disap- 
pointed ambition  tortured  his  heart.  To 
rebel  against  his  fate,  however,  was  of  no 
avail.  He  must,  of  necessity,  depart  im- 


OR,    THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  147 

mediately.  He  therefore  gave  orders  to 
prepare  everything  requisite  for  the  comfort 
of  the  family  in  their  new  establishment  of 
Oranienbaum.  Every  servant  in  the  palace 
was  at  work.  Bales,  boxes,  trunks,  bags, 
were  placed  upon  a  long  line  of  wagons, 
carts  and  carriages  which  were  to  accom- 
pany Menshikoff  and  his  family.  A  large 
crowd  collected  early  in  the  morning  around 
the  gate  of  the  palace,  awaiting  with  im- 
patience the  moment  when  the  prince  and 
the  imperial  ex-betrothed  should  appear. 
Many  loudly  complained  that  this  man,  who 
had  drained  the  people  of  their  hard  earn- 
ings, should  be  permitted  to  take  away  with 
him  so  many  valuable  articles.  Others  sug- 
gested the  propriety  of  stoning  him,  and 
added,  that,  of  all  his  wealth,  nothing  ought 
to  be  allowed  him  but  the  basket  in  which 
he  had  formerly  carried  his  French  pies. 
The  reproaches  and  insults  increased  when 
Menshikoff,  dressed  in  a  simple  suit  of 
coarse  cloth,  divested  of  all  the  decorations 
indicative  of  the  honors  which  had  been 
lavished  upon  him,  issued  from  the  palace 
gate  and  entered  the  carriage.  The  princess 


148  MENSHIKOFF ; 

was  more  calm  and  self-possessed.  Her 
two  daughters  covered  their  faces  with  their 
handkerchiefs,  and  the  boy  looked  angrily 
and  defiantly  at  the  crowd.  Several 
vehicles,  filled  with  the  servants  of  the 
palace,  followed  that  of  the  prince. 

"Does  not  that  seem,"  said  one  among 
the  throng  witnessing  the  scene,  "the  train 
accompanying  a  king  on  a  journey  rather 
than  that  of  a  criminal  sent  into  exile?" 

The  sentiment  thus  openly  expressed 
was  re-echoed  by  the  crowd,  and  many  a 
threat  was  muttered  between  their  clenched 
teeth. 

Menshikoff  was  keenly  sensitive  to  the 
contempt  so  publicly  expressed,  and  said 
bitterly  to  his  wife  : 

"  Is  it  credible  that  those  are  the  very 
people  to  whom  I  distributed  bread  and 
wood  only  a  few  days  ago,  and  who 
showered  blessings  upon  me  for  my  liber- 
ality?" 

"  It  is  ever  thus  with  the  world,"  replied 
the  princess.  "  Even  the  best  of  men  are 
the  sport  of  the  inconstancy  of  others. 
Think  of  the  Saviour  himself.  On  his  entry 


OR,   THE  PEASANT   PRINCE.  149 

into  Jerusalem,  the  people  cast  their  gar- 
ments at  his  feet,  strewed  the  way  with 
branches  of  palm  and  shouted  Hosannas  ; 
only  a  few  days  had  passed,  when  they  de- 
manded his  blood  with  loud  cries  and  nailed 
Him  to  a  cross.  If  the  Christ  is  thus 
treated,  what  can  you  expect  ?  " 

The  princess  endeavored  by  these  words 
to  console  her  husband  ;  but  they  were  in- 
effectual to  restore  peace  to  his  soul,  con- 
scious, as  he  was,  that  the  humiliations  and 
affronts  heaped  upon  him  were  the  merited 
chastisement  of  his  own  evil  deeds. 

The  carriage  conveying  into  exile  the 
,  man,  who  but  the  day  before  was  the  most 
powerful  prince  in  Russia,  passed  by  the 
chief  military  guard  of  the  capital.  With 
what  promptitude,  an  hour  before  his  fall, 
the  officers  and  soldiers  would  have  put 
themselves  under  arms,  to  render  the  hom- 
age due  a  field-marshal  of  the  empire! 
Now  how  all  was  changed  by  the  mere 
order  of  a  child  !  The  officers  on  duty  con- 
tinued their  walk  with  folded  arms,  care- 
lessly glancing  at  their  former  superior,  or, 
even  pointedly  turning  their  backs.  The 


150  MENSHIKOFF; 

sentinel  stood  quietly  with  his  gun  resting  on 
his  foot,  and  some  of  the  soldiers  burst  into 
an  insolent  laugh. 

Similar  humiliations  awaited  the  fallen 
family  as  long  as  they  were  within  the 
capital,  and  ceased  only  when  they  had 
reached  the  open  country. 

"  Courage !  my  dear  Alexander,"  said 
the  princess,  seeing  her  husband  silent  and 
dejected.  "  Courage  !  Oranienbaum  is  not 
so  disagreeable  an  abode.  It  is  even 
pleasanter  than  St.  Petersburg.  There  we 
shall  be  in  the  midst  of  a  charming  coun- 
try; we  shall  enjoy  delightful  walks  to- 
gether in  the  fine  weather,  and  we  will 
relieve  the  tedium  of  the  long  winter  by 
our  home  pleasures,  reading,  conversation 
and  music." 

"  Yes,  papa,"  added  one  of  the  daughters, 
"Alexander  plays  on  the  flute,  I  play  on 
the  piano,  and  Nina  sings.  We  shall  have 
enough  to  amuse  us." 

"  Before  dinner,"  said  his  son,  "we  shall 
fence,  shall  we  not,  dear  father?  After 
dinner,  we  can  play  at  billiards ;  and  in  the 
evening,  you  will  relate  to  us  your  travels 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  !$! 

and  tell  us  of  the  battles  you  fought  under 
Peter  the  Great." 

"  In  the  winter,"  continued  the  former 
betrothed  of  the  young  Czar,  "  we  will  take 
sleigh  drives  or  skate  on  the  castle  ponds." 

"  We  can  also  cultivate  flowers  in  the 
winter  within  the  castle,"  said  the  mother. 


152  MENSHIKOFF; 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   EXILE. 

SUDDENLY,  without  their  knowing  the 
cause,  the  carriage  conveying  Menshikoff 
and  his  family  stopped.  The  prince  put  his 
head  out  of  the  window  to  inquire  of  the 
coachman  the  reason  of  the  halt,  when  he 
heard  repeated  cries  of  "  Stop,  stop  !  "  and 
he  saw  an  officer  galloping  at  full  speed 
holding  a  letter  elevated  above  his  head  and 
calling  aloud,  "  Stop,  stop!  " 

What  could  this  mean?  Had  the  Em- 
peror repented  of  his  harshness?  Did  the 
letter  bring  him  a  full  pardon  ?  Did  it  con- 
tain an  order  for  the  prince  to  return  to  St. 
Petersburg  and  resume  all  his  dignities  ?  A 
child  as  young  as  Peter  the  Second  is  so 
changeable.  From  what  other  motive  could 
an  imperial  courier  have  been  dispatched 
with  a  letter  to  the  princely  family?  All 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  153 

these  thoughts  passed  rapidly  through  the 
minds  of  Menshikoff,  his  wife  and  children, 
and  enkindled  in  their  souls  the  hope  of  a 
change  in  their  lot.  They  gave  no  expres- 
sion to  their  feelings,  but  the  joy  imprinted 
upon  their  countenances  was  sufficient  evi- 
dence of  their  anticipation  of  a  reversal 
of  the  decree  of  exile  which  had  been  pro- 
nounced against  them. 

In  the  mean  time  the  courier  had  reached 
the  carriage.  He  unfolded  the  missive  and 
read  it  aloud  to  Menshikoff.  But  far  from 
being  a  ukase  remitting  the  penalty  to 
which  the  prince  had  been  condemned,  the 
letter  enumerated  all  the  peculations  and 
misdemeanors  of  which  he  had  been  guilty, 
and  which  rendered  him,  for  the  future, 
wholly  unworthy  of  the  confidence  of  the 
Czar.  Overwhelming  as  were  the  facts 
summed  up  and  laid  to  his  charge,  he  still 
flattered  himself  that  the  Emperor  would 
have  mercy  on  his  former  minister  and  par- 
don him.  What  a  thunderbolt  for  him  was 
the  conclusion  of  the  document! 

"All  these  crimes  having  been  proved, 
we,  Peter  the  Second,  Czar  of  all  the 


154  MENSHIKOFF; 

Russias,  decree  in  our  justice  that  all  the 
possessions  of  the  said  Menshikoff  be  confis- 
cated, and  that  he,  with  all  his  family,  be 
exiled  to  Siberia  for  life." 

As  the  officer  terminated  the  reading  of 
the  imperial  order,  the  prince  fell  back  in 
the  carriage  and  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands.  The  princess  seemed  as  though 
deprived  of  consciousness;  the  son,  pale  as 
a  corpse,  gazed  immovable  upon  the  officer. 
The  two  young  princesses  alone  were  able 
to  solace  their  woes  by  tears. 

On  learning  what  had  passed,  all  the 
attendants  alighted  from  the  vehicles  they 
occupied,  and  with  loud  lamentations  sur- 
rounded the  Menshikoff  family,  who,  in 
their  intense  sorrow,  had  no  words  of  conso- 
lation for  others. 

At  this  moment  the  whole  line  of  equip- 
ages, wagons  and  carts  altered  the  direction 
they  had  hitherto  followed  and  took  the 
road  towards  the  north. 

"  Do  you  intend  to  accompany  our  master 
to  Siberia?"  asked  the  servants  of  each 
other. 

"  I  have  not  the  least  desire  to  do  so," 


OR,  THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  155 

answered  a  footman.  "  They  say  that  the 
winds  there  are  ten  times  colder  than  at 
St.  Petersburg.  Besides  there  is  no  way  of 
amusing  one's  self.  There  are  plenty  of 
bears,  wolves  and  other  wild  beasts  which 
make  the  country  very  unsafe.  As  to  par- 
ties and  balls,  which  make  time  pass  so 
pleasantly,  they  are  not  to  be  looked  for  in 
Siberia.  And  in  future,  you  may  well 
imagine,  the  kitchen  of  the  prince  will  not 
be  sumptuously  provided  ;  on  the  contrary, 
abstinence  will  be  observed  in  his  house- 
hold." 

"You  are  right,"  said  another;  "for  our 
master  by  one  stroke  has  become  as  poor  as 
a  church-mouse.  You  may  be  sure  that  he 
will  have  barely  sufficient  to  support 
life.  Of  course  he  will  not  need  so  many 
servants,  whose  wages  he  will  be  unable  to 
pay.  I  have  decided  to  take  my  leave." 

"I  am  of  your  opinion,"  added  a  third; 
"  I  shall  follow  your  example." 

A  moment  afterwards,  the  officer  having 
ordered  the  Cossacks,  who  had  thus  far 
escorted  Menshikoff,  to  take  charge  of  the 
baggage  which  he  considered  unsuitable  to 


156  MENSHIKOFF; 

the  prince  and  convey  it  to  St.  Petersburg, 
all  the  servants  determined  to  return  with 
them,  thus  abandoning  a  master  who  had 
hitherto  paid  them  generously.  Michaelow 
alone  remained  at  his  post  behind  the 
carriage  of  the  prince.  In  vain  his  compan- 
ions endeavored  to  shake  his  fidelity;  he 
did  not  even  reply  to  their  entreaties. 
They  reviled  and  insulted  him,  but  he 
remained  firm  in  his  decision,  compassion- 
ating in  his  heart  his  master  when  he  should 
learn  that  he  had  been  left  alone  in  his  mis- 
fortunes. 

The  carriage  stopped  at  a  small  village  to 
change  horses,  when  Menshikoff  called  his 
chief  valet.  Michaelow  presented  himself 
and  inquired  what  he  wished. 

"  Collect  all  my  servants,"  said  the  prince. 
"  On  no  account  would  I  have  them  share 
my  hard  lot  and  accompany  me  to  Siberia. 
I  desire  to  dismiss  them  and  keep  with 
me  only  those  who  are  absolutely  nec- 
essary." 

Michaelow  was  much  embarrassed  and 
hardly  knew  what  to  reply.  At  last  gaining 
courage,  and  seeking  to  excuse  the  ingrati- 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  157 

tude  of  which  the  attendants  had  given  evi- 
dent proof,  he  said : 

My  lord,  they  foresaw  what  would  hap- 
pen, and  they  returned  to  St.  Petersburg; 
they  left  secretly  for  fear  of  renewing  the 
suffering  of  your  Highness." 

Menshikoff  could  hardly  believe  his  ears. 
He  looked  out  of  the  carriage  and  found 
that  all  the  vehicles  had  disappeared. 
He  smiled  sarcastically  and  said  to  his 
wife: 

"  See  how  delicately  they  have  acted ; 
these  people  who  protested  so  strongly  their 
devotion  to  us,  wished  to  spare  us  pain  and 
for  this  reason  they  stole  away  without  a 
word  of  adieu.'' 

Then  addressing  Michaelow  he  said  : 

"  Why  do  you  persist  in  remaining  here  ? 
Go,  join  your  comrades." 

"  I  will  never  abandon  your  Highness," 
answered  the  faithful  boy. 

"Begone,"  resumed  Menshikoff,  "I  never 
wish  to  see  you  again.  You  are  all  hypo- 
crites, mercenary  time-servers,  faithful  only 
to  a  well-filled  purse.  Begone,  I  tell  you  ; 
you  have  nothing  more  to  gain  in  my  ser- 


158  MENSHIKOFF; 

vice.  Seek  Dolgoruki ;  he  is  rich  and  I  am 
poor." 

"  I  will  remain  with  your  Highness,"  re- 
plied Michaelow. 

"  Have  I  fallen  so  low,"  exclaimed  the 
prince,  wringing  his  hands,  "  that  the  lowest 
of  my  servants  refuses  to  obey  my  com- 
mands?" 

Fixing  his  eyes,  flashing  with  anger,  upon 
the  poor  young  man,  he  said  : 

"  Make  off  with  yourself  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, and  never  again  appear  in  my  pres- 
ence !  " 

Witnesses  of  this  scene,  the  princess  and 
her  children  cast  a  look  of  compassion  upon 
Michaelow,  who  retired,  but  did  not  with- 
draw to  a  distance,  resuming  his  accustomed 
place  behind  the  carriage. 

The  party  soon  continued  their  journey. 
The  country  became  more  and  more  de- 
serted as  they  advanced,  and  the  north  wind 
was  more  piercing.  The  family,  absorbed 
in  the  thought  of  their  misfortunes,  pre- 
served a  profound  silence.  Michaelow 
prayed  for  them.  As  night  came  on,  they 
heard  in  the  distance  the  howling  of  hungry 


OR,  THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  159 

wolves.  Every  instant  the  cold  increased 
in  intensity.  The  occupants  of  the  car- 
riage wrapped  themselves  up  as  warmly 
as  they  could  and  vainly  endeavored  to 
sleep.  How  long  the  night  appeared  to 
them !  It  seemed  as  though  day  would 
never  dawn.  In  the  morning,  the  wind 
became  more  violent,  and  the  Menshikoff 
family  shook  with  the  cold.  Moreover, 
having  eaten  nothing  since  they  had  left 
St.  Petersburg,  they  began  to  feel  the 
effect  of  their  abstinence.  They  therefore 
stopped  at  a  village  inn  for  breakfast.  The 
prince  was  obliged  himself  to  let  down  the 
steps  of  the  carriage  and  alight  without 
the  assistance  of  a  servant.  Trifling  as  was 
the  vexation,  it  appeared  to  annoy  him. 
Performing  the  office  of  footman,  he  awk- 
wardly aided  the  princess  to  alight.  The 
young  prince  did  not  wait  for  ceremonies 
but  leaped  from  the  carriage  ;  he  fell, 
however,  heavily  to  the  ground,  for  his 
limbs  were  stiff  from  having  remained 
twenty  hours  in  the  same  position.  As 
to  the  young  princesses,  they  were  so  be- 
numbed by  the  cold  that  they  could  scarcely 


l6o  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

stand.  Michaelow  had  disappeared,  to  the 
great  disappointment  of  the  mother  and 
daughters,  who  had  cherished  the  hope  that 
his  fidelity  would  stand  the  test  to  which 
it  had  been  subjected. 

The  family  staggered  towards  the  door 
of  the  humble  inn  ;  but  no  sooner  had 
they  entered  the  low  apartment,  than  their 
first  impulse  was  to  seek  again  the  open 
air,  so  stifling  was  the  heat,  so  suffocating 
the  smoke  with  which  the  room  was  filled  ; 
but  the  intense  cold  without  compelled 
them  to  endure  the  impure  atmosphere. 
Sorrowful  and  humiliated  they  seated  them- 
selves on  the  wooden  chairs  which  were 
presented  them.  Menshikoff  fixed  his  eyes 
upon  the  ground  with  an  expression  of  de- 
spair. The  warm  nourishment  they  so  much 
needed,  was  furnished  them  by  the  host 
in  the  form  of  a  kind  of  black  broth  made 
of  rye  flour  and  served  in  an  earthenware 
tureen.  Not  one  had  the  courage  to  taste 
it,  so  disgustingly  unclean  was  the  man  as 
well  as  the  plates  and  spoons. 

'*  There  must  be  some  tea  and  choc- 
olate," observed  one  of  the  young  prin- 


OR,    THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  l6l 

cesses,  "  in  the  baggage  they  saw  fit  to 
leave  us.  But  where  shall  we  look  for 
them?" 

The  young  prince  immediately  began 
the  search,  and  succeeded  in  finding  the 
packages  they  wished.  But  a  new  difficulty 
arose.  Who  was  to  prepare  the  chocolate 
and  tea?  They  could  not  rely  upon  the 
hostess,  who  rivalled  her  husband  in  want 
of  cleanliness,  and  who,  besides,  had  never 
seen  tea  or  chocolate.  The  young  girls 
decided  to  try,  with  the  aid  of  their  brother, 
to  fill  the  office  of  cook.  If  the  poor 
children  had  not  been  objects  of  pity  on 
account  of  the  miserable  condition  to  which 
they  were  reduced,  an  observer  would  have 
laughed  heartily  at  their  awkward  attempts, 
as  they  were  both  entirely  ignorant  of 
cooking.  How  unskilfully  they  handled 
the  utensils  !  How  often  they  burned  their 
fingers !  What  stains  of  soot  on  their  faces 
and  dresses !  If  a  little  while  before  they 
had  shivered  from  the  cold,  now  how  over- 
heated they  were,  bending  over  the  large 
fire !  Great  was  their  anxiety  to  acquit 
themselves  creditably  of  the  work  they 


1 62  MENSHIKOFF; 

had  undertaken !  At  last  they  considered 
the  chocolate  ready  to  be  served,  and  they 
removed  it  from  the  fire ;  on  tasting  it 
they  found  it  too  thin.  The  woman  of  the 
house,  who  had  been  watching  the  young 
girls  and  laughing  to  herself  at  their  awk- 
ward attempts,  perceiving  their  dilemma, 
offered  them  a  cup  of  flour  and  a  wooden 
spoon.  One  of  them  threw  in  a  handful  of 
the  flour  while  her  brother  took  the  spoon 
to  stir  the  chocolate.  Unfortunately  in 
his  eagerness  to  aid  his  sisters,  he  over- 
turned the  vessel  and  the  contents  were 
spilled.  The  tea  remained  ;  but  it  was 
so  filled  with  the  coals  and  cinders  which 
had  been  scattered  by  the  upsetting  of 
the  chocolate,  that  the  taste  was  detest- 
able. The  two  princesses  wept  with  vex- 
ation on  seeing  how  entirely  they  had 
failed  in  their  efforts. 

Just  as  the  unskilled  cooks  entered  the 
room  in  tears  to  show  to  their  parents 
the  pot  of  bitter,  blackened  tea,  another 
door  opened,  and  Michaelow,  who  they 
thought  had  abandoned  them  the  evening 
before,  appeared.  He  carried  a  waiter  upon 


OR,   THE  PEASANT   PRINCE.  163 

which  was  a  pot  of  smoking  chocolate,  cups 
and  saucers,  and  a  pile  of  tempting  cakes. 
It  was  an  unexpected  apparition  to  the 
poor  family.  How  clean  were  the  cups ! 
How  fragrant  the  chocolate!  How  fully 
at  that  moment  they  appreciated  the  value 
of  a  good  servant !  Generally,  their  worth 
is  not  properly  estimated  until  their  services 
are  withdrawn.  Had  Menshikoff,  in  his 
perplexity,  been  able  to  offer  fifty  crowns 
for  a  cup  of  chocolate  properly  prepared, 
he  could  not  have  procured  it  without 
the  assistance  of  'Michaelow.  He  would 
have  been  forced  to  do  without  it.  For 
his  part,  Michaelow  could  not  have  adopted 
a  more  efficacious  means  of  being  restored 
to  the  favor  of  his  master,  embittered  by 
misfortune,  than  to  surprise  him  by  pre- 
senting opportunely  a  breakfast,  for  which 
he  had  provided  by  searching  the  baggage 
during  the  night.  Having  thus  obtained 
the  necessary  utensils  with  flour  and  choc- 
olate, he  had  received  permission  from 
a  neighboring  peasant  to  use  the  fire  of 
his  cabin,  and  he  had  succeeded  in  his  new 
office  far  better  than  the  young  princesses. 


164  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

The  hopes  he  had  entertained  were 
realized. 

"  Good  and  faithful  Michaelow ! "  ex- 
claimed the  family,  transported  with  joy. 

Menshikoff  did  not  speak,  but  he  cast  a 
grateful  look  upon  the  good  young  man, 
who  was  happy  in  the  conviction  that  he 
had  regained  the  good  graces  of  the  prince. 
With  what  appetite  the  hungry  family 
partook  of  the  warm  drink  and  the  delicious 
cakes  served  by  Michaelow  ! 

Poverty  often  humbles  pride,  and  dis- 
poses the  great  of  this  world  to  draw  near 
their  inferiors  and  recognize  in  them  their 
neighbor.  Such  was  the  effect  of  the  as- 
sistance rendered  the  princely  family  in 
their  necessities  by  their  valet.  The  prin- 
cess insisted  upon  his  taking  a  cup  of  choco- 
late which  one  of  her  daughters  herself  pre- 
sented him ;  but  he  refused  to  accept  the 
unaccustomed  favor.  The  young  prince 
had  always  been  extremely  haughty  in  his 
bearing  toward  his  father's  domestic ;  now 
he  seemed  anxious  to  compensate  for  his 
former  manner,  by  assuming  a  kind  and  affec- 
tionate tone  when  addressing  the  trusty  boy. 


OR,  THE  PEASANT   PRINCE.  165 

After  a  short  time  allowed  them  for 
repose,  Menshikoff  with  his  family  was 
obliged  to  resume  the  journey.  Not  a 
word  passed  his  lips ;  he  was  unable  to 
shake  off  the  gloom  which  had  settled  upon 
him  after  receiving  from  the  Emperor  the 
sentence  of  exile.  His  wife  and  children 
anticipated  with  anxiety  the  sad  fate  await- 
ing them,  and  sadly  contrasted  with  it  their 
recent  brilliant  position.  Although  the 
body  of  the  carriage  was  hung  on  excellent 
springs  and  was  protected  by  thick  glass, 
the  difficulties  of  the  road  became  more 
and  more  intolerable. 

For  several  days  and  nights  the  exiles 
were  allowed  to  halt  only  long  enough  to 
change  horses.  On  reaching  a  small  village 
they  were,  however,  permitted  to  rest  for 
one  night.  But  what  new  privations  they 
experienced  !  There  were  no  down  beds, 
no  silk  coverlids,  no  attendants.  The 
rooms  they  occupied  were  unclean,  the  fur- 
niture coarse,  the  beds  icy  cold.  Michaelow 
threw  himself  on  a  bundle  of  straw,  where 
he  slept  the  deep  sleep  given  by  a  good 
conscience. 


l66  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

Menshikoff  did  not  close  his  eyes.  How 
bitterly  he  reproached  himself  !  For  was  it 
not  through  his  fault  alone  that  his  fam- 
ily was  overwhelmed  by  misfortune?  The 
children  slept  tranquilly.  Not  so  the 
mother.  She  arose  in  the  morning  more 
fatigued  and  prostrated  than  on  retiring  the 
night  before.  She  was  extremely  pale,  her 
eyes  were  without  lustre,  and  the  cold 
seemed  to  have  penetrated  her  whole  sys- 
tem. Hitherto,  upon  the  least  derange- 
ment of  the  health  of  any  member  of  the 
family,  the  physician  residing  at  the  palace 
was  summoned  to  administer  remedies,  and 
all  the  resources  of  his  art  were  employed 
to  relieve  the  sufferer.  Now  in  this  isolated 
village,  the  princess  was  deprived  of  all 
means  of  combating  the  illness  by  which 
she  was  attacked.  The  physician  had  de- 
parted with  the  other  attendants  of  Men- 
shikoff, even  carrying  away  with  him  the 
box  containing  the  medicines.  Michaelow 
did  the  little  in  his  power  by  preparing 
some  hot  tea  for  the  princess  and  placing  a 
vessel  of  hot  water  to  her  feet. 

At  the  dawn  of  day  the  exiles  were  com- 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  167 

pelled  to  continue  their  journey.  At  last 
they  approached  the  confines  of  Europe, 
and  Siberia  lay  extended  before  them. 
Vaster  in  extent  than  the  entire  continent 
of  Europe  with  its  numerous  states,  em- 
pires, kingdoms  and  republics,  this  solitude 
contains  a  very  small  number  of  inhabitants. 
In  these  immense,  rough  and  barren 
steppes,  there  are  to  be  found  only  a  few 
scattered  habitations,  and  the  village  of 
Berezov,  which  had  been  assigned  as  the 
residence  of  Menshikoff  was  some  distance 
in  the  interior  of  this  desert.  A  long  jour- 
ney was  still  before  him  ere  he  could  reach 
his  allotted  place  of  exile. 

The  princess  grew  worse  daily.  The  chil- 
dren forgot  their  own  misery  in  their  solici- 
tude about  their  mother.  To  their  other 
privations  was  added  want  of  clothing. 
Their  dresses  had  been  torn  and  rubbed 
until  they  were  in  tatters.  They  had  not 
only  no  change,  but  nothing  to  protect 
them  against  the  increasing  cold.  Fortu- 
nately the  care  of  providing  them  with 
warm  clothing  devolved  upon  the  com- 
mander at  the  frontier  town. 


168  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

He  was  a  rough  man,  unaccustomed  to 
treat  with  courtesy  the  exiles  who  were 
temporarily  under  his  charge.  He  notified 
the  Menshikoff  family  that  they  would  be 
required  to  lay  aside  their  present  style  of 
dress  and  substitute  for  it  garments  which, 
whilst  being  better  suited  to  the  rigorous 
climate  of  the  country,  formed  a  kind  of 
uniform,  enabling  the  government  to  recog- 
nize its  prisoners.  As  he  was  speaking  a 
soldier  entered,  bearing  on  his  shoulders  an 
enormous  bundle  of  wearing  apparel  made 
of  coarse  brown  cloth.  When  he  threw  it 
on  the  ground  the  commandant  turned  it 
over  with  his  foot,  pushed  on  one  side  a 
pair  of  wide  breeches  with  a  loose  frock,  and 
said  to  the  prince  : 

"  Menshikoff,  take  those,  and  I  wish  you 
good  health  whilst  wearing  them." 

Then  addressing  the  princess,  he  added : 

"  Woman,  those  are  for  you  and  your 
girls.  And  you,"  he  said  to  the  young 
prince,  "can  take  the  rest'." 

In  this  coarse  manner  did  he  speak  to  the 
man  whose  favor  was  earnestly  sought  a 
few  days  before,  by  the  highest  lords  of  the 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  169 

empire.  Without  a  word  in  reply  Menshi- 
koff  picked  up  the  garments,  unfolded,  and 
was  apparently  examining  them.  In  real- 
ity, he  was  striving  to  conceal  from  his  wife 
and  children  the  tears  which  filled  his  eyes. 
They  left  him  and  retired  to  an  apartment 
pointed  out  to  them  to  assume  their  new 
dress.  When  they  reappeared  they  could 
no  longer  be  recognized  as  the  same  per- 
sons. The  princess  would  have  been  taken 
for  a  peasant  woman,  and  her  daughters  for 
village  girls.  Their  small  feet,  accustomed 
only  to  satin  or  velvet  slippers,  were  now 
covered  with  heavy  boots  lined  with  felt ; 
the  long  sleeves  of  the  thick  and  coarse 
cloth  falling  over  their  hands,  almost  pre- 
vented their  use,  whilst  the  shapeless  head- 
dress nearly  concealed  their  faces.  Gloves 
of  fox-skin  were  suspended  from  their  shoul- 
ders by  a  hempen  cord.  By  special  privi- 
lege they  were  allowed  to  keep  their  body 
linen  to  protect  them  from  the  contact  of 
the  rough  clothing.  On  returning  to  the 
room  where  they  had  left  Menshikoff  and  his 
son,  the  princess  and  her  daughters  found 
them  apparently  transformed  into  peasants. 


I/O  MENSHIKOFF ; 

"  Tell  me,"  said  the  princess  cheerfully  to 
her  husband,  "how  you  like  my  dress?" 

Her  daughters,  for  fear  of  paining  their 
father,  concealed  their  real  feelings  under 
an  assumed  gayety,  and  said  to  him  play- 
fully: 

"  Father,  we  are  going  to  a  masquerade 
ball.  Have  we  not  disguised  ourselves 
admirably  ?  I  hardly  think  we  shall  be  rec- 
ognized." 

But  as  Menshikoff  gazed  upon  his  wife 
and  children,  saw  them  so  metamorphosed, 
and  yet  so  cheerfully  adapting  themselves 
to  their  changed  condition,  his  heart 
seemed  ready  to  burst.  Had  they  over- 
whelmed him  with  reproaches,  had  they 
accused  him  of  being  the  author  of  their 
misery,  he  would  have  suffered  far  less 
anguish  than  was  inflicted  upon  him  by 
their  uncomplaining  endurance  of  the 
wrong  he  had  done  them.  The  woman 
before  him  so  miserably  attired,  and  almost 
dying  from  fatigue  and  exposure,  still 
smiled  upon  him  affectionately ;  his  chil- 
dren, so  recently  ranking  the  highest  among 
the  elite  of  the  Russian  aristocracy,  and 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  I/ 1 

now  so  humbled  by  his  fault,  showed  him 
the  same  respect  and  love  as  though  their 
miseries  were  the  result  of  unavoidable  mis- 
fortune. He  could  no  longer  control  the 
grief  and  sorrow  which  he  had  until  then 
pent  up  in  his  own  soul.  Falling  on  his 
knees  before  the  princess,  he  sobbed  aloud, 
unable  to  articulate  a  single  word.  His 
wife  and  children  on  beholding  him  so 
deeply  afflicted,  mingled  their  tears  with 
his,  and  even  Michaelow  could  not  restrain 
his  emotion. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  the  young  prince,  "if 
the  Emperor  were  to  witness  the  desolation 
caused  by  his  anger,  he  would  have  pity 
and  pardon  us." 

"  My  child,"  replied  his  mother,  "we  must 
place  our  confidence  in  God  and  not  in 
man ;  in  the  Sovereign  of  the  universe  and 
not  in  the  kings  of  the  earth.  Hitherto  we 
have  relied  upon  human  aid.  Let  us  now 
repair  the  past  and  turn  our  hearts  to  the 
God  whom  we  have  neglected,  and  who  is 
so  rich  in  mercy,  so  abundant  in  His  bene- 
dictions." 

"Ah  !    Woe  to  me  ! "  exclaimed  Menshi- 


1/2  MENSHIKOFF; 

koff,  recovering  himself  sufficiently  to  speak. 
"  By  my  rapacity  and  insatiable  ambition  I 
have  brought  all  this  misery  upon  my 
family." 

"  Calm  yourself,  my  dear  Alexander," 
replied  the  princess.  "  We  will  bear  our 
common  misfortunes  cheerfully,  and  thus 
the  burden  will  seem  lighter.  Besides,  if 
affliction  draws  us  nearer  to  God,  we  have 
gained  by  the  exchange.  In  reality  life  is 
but  a  short  dream,  a  passing  drama,  in 
which  we  are  at  one  moment  at  the  pinnacle 
of  grandeur,  and  in  the  next,  in  the  depth 
of  misery.-  As  for  myself,  I  feel  that  my 
pilgrimage  here  below  is  near  its  term,  and 
my  heart  sighs  for  that  true  country,  where 
sorrow  enters  not,  and  where  eternal  happi- 
ness is  our  portion." 

Already  a  man  from  the  street  had  rudely 
called  to  the  exiles  that  it  was  time  for 
them  to  leave,  but  wholly  absorbed  in  their 
sorrow,  the  order  had  not  been  heard. 
Michaelow,  therefore,  profited  by  the  first 
pause  to  address  the  prince  and  said  to  him  : 

"  Pardon  me,  your  Highness,  but  the 
commandant"  .  .  • 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  1/3 

These  words  startled  Menshikoff  as  if 
from  a  dream,  and  he  exclaimed  angrily : 

"  What  do  you  mean,  miscreant  ?  Do 
you  mock  us  in  our  misfortunes?  You  are 
the  most  elevated  of  the  party;  there  is  no 
Highness  here  ;  only  a  family  of  exiles." 

"  My  lord  "  .  .  .  .  stammered  Michaelow 
in  confusion. 

"  You  are  the  only  lord  here,"  again  inter- 
rupted Menshikoff,  frowning,  "  for  you  can 
go  where  you  please,  whilst  we  are  con- 
demned prisoners." 

The  princess  took  pity  on  the  poor  boy  in 
whom  she  daily  became  more  interested. 

"  In  future,  Michaelow,"  she  said  gently, 
"call  my  husband  father,  address  me  as 
your  mother,  and  give  to  my  children  the 
name  of  brother  and  sister.  Your  unswerv- 
ing fidelity  has  acquired  you  the  right  of 
being  considered  by  all  as  a  member  of  the 
family." 

Before  he  could  express  his  gratitude  for 
the  kindness  of  the  princess,  the  command- 
ant knocked  loudly  and  impatiently  against 
the  window,  exclaiming  roughly : 

"  Be  off  with  yourselves  at  once.     We  are 


174  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

not  disposed  to  freeze  out  here  to  allow  you 
the  time  to  chat  at  leisure." 

The  unfortunate  exiles  obeyed  the  sum- 
mons without  delay.  On  opening  the  door 
they  found  that  their  carriage  had  been 
replaced  by  six  small  wooden  sleds,  called 
by  the  Russians  kibitkis.  They  were  open, 
drawn  by  one  horse,  and  capable  of  contain- 
ing only  one  person  besides  the  driver. 
They  were,  in  a  word,  extremely  uncomfort- 
able vehicles,  consisting  of  an  oblong  box, 
in  which  was  placed  a  wooden  bench  as  a 
seat  for  the  traveller,  and  as  they  were 
uncovered,  they  offered  no  protection 
against  the  inclement  weather.  As  he  saw 
these  miserable  kibitkis  collected  before  the 
door,  Menshikoff  stood  as  if  petrified  and 
could  scarcely  believe  his  eyes. 

"And  must  my  poor,  sick  wife  make  the 
remainder  of  the  journey  in  those  rough 
boxes?"  he  asked. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  commandant, 
with  an  insulting  laugh.  "  Menshikoff,  per- 
haps, imagines  that  the  government  is  dis- 
posed to  furnish  him  with  a  travelling  car- 
riage superior  to  that  allowed  the  other 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  1/5 

exiles.  Did  you  procure  comfortable 
vehicles  for  those  unfortunate  creatures, 
whom  your  inhumanity  banished  to  Siberia 
when  you  were  in  power?  Eh  ?  " 

These  words  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon 
Menshikoff;  they  were  as  a  revelation  to 
him,  making  him  realize  that  every  crime 
must  be  expiated.  He  had,  in  cold  blood 
and  with  one  stroke  of  his  pen,  exiled  hun- 
dreds of  men  to  Siberia.  He  had  remained 
deaf  to  the  supplications  of  the  wives  and 
children,  who  were  either  separated  from 
those  so  dear  to  them,  or  who,  innocent  as 
they  were,  had  been  condemned  to  share 
the  fate  of  the  exiled  husband  and  father. 
All,  without  regard  to  their  social  position, 
were  subjected  to  the  same  treatment ;  the 
high-born  princess,  delicately  nurtured  and 
accustomed  to  all  the  refinements  of  life, 
had,  equally  with  the  meanest  peasant,  been 
forced  to  wear  garments  similar  to  those 
now  presented  to  Menshikoff  and  his  family ; 
the  same  sleds  had  conveyed  them  to  their 
place  of  exile.  Now  his  turn  had  come. 

"My  God!"  he  said  to  himself,  "just 
and  right  are  Thy  judgments ! "  And 


MENSHIKOFF ; 

gently  pressing  his  wife's  hand,  he  seemed 
to  ask  her  pardon  for  drawing  her  down  into 
such  a  depth  of  misery. 

His  heart  was  crushed  with  sorrow  when 
he  saw  his  children,  who  had  been  brought 
up  in  the  midst  of  luxuries,  place  them- 
selves without  a  murmur  in  the  miserable 
vehicle  provided  for  them.  He  made  every 
exertion  to  procure,  at  least  for  his  wife,  a 
less  uncomfortable  seat  than  the  wooden 
bench  fastened  in  the  sled,  but  he  could 
obtain  only  a  bundle  of  straw  to  throw  over 
it.  Michaelow,  seeing  her  shivering  with 
the  cold,  placed  his  own  cloak  around  her 
shoulders.  Menshikoff  thanked  him  for  his 
generosity  by  a  silent  pressure  of  the  hand. 
The  sad  cortege  set  out,  the  children  in  front 
followed  by  their  mother ;  then  came  Men- 
shikoff, and  lastly  MichaeloVv.  The  drivers 
cracked  their  whips,  and  the  kibitkis  glided 
over  the  snow  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning. 

The  first  time  they  stopped  to  feed  the 
horses,  Menshikoff  leaped  from  his  sled  and 
hastened  to  the  kibitki  conveying  his  wife. 

"  How  are  you  ?  "  he  inquired  in  intense 
anxiety. 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE. 

"  Very  well,"  she  replied,  drawing  her 
wrappings  as  closely  as  possible  around  her. 

"  Will  you  take  something  to  eat  or 
drink  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  I  am  neither  hungry  nor 
thirsty." 

"Will  you  not  alight  for  a  moment?  The 
motion  may  help  to  heat  you." 

"  No,  I  am  not  cold.  I  have  warm  wrap- 
pings." 

"  Give  me  your  hand,"  he  said,  passing 
his  over  the  side  of  the  sled. 

"  I  cannot  remove  my  mitten,"  she  an- 
swered. 

"  No,  do  not  take  it  off,"  replied  Men- 
shikoff,  as  he  gently  took  her  hand  en- 
veloped in  the  thick  fur.  "But,"  he  ex- 
claimed affrighted,  "  it  is  stiff  and  frozen, 
and  you  are  as  pale  as  death." 

"  Your  fears  make  you  exaggerate,"  she 
said,  forcing  a  smile.  "  Do  not  be  anxious." 

Menshikoff,  however,  could  not  dismiss 
his  fears,  and  it  was  with  an  agonizing  heart 
that  he  obeyed  the  summons  of  the  driver 
to  resume  his  seat  in  the  sled.  He  passed 
the  first  day  in  the  most  poignant  grief,  but 


'178  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

the  night  augmented  his  sufferings.  The 
"wind  blew  more  violently  over  the  icy  plain 
they  were  traversing  and  became  more  pierc- 
ingly cold.  A  fine  snow  fell,  and  as  the 
•flakes  were  driven  against  the  faces  of  the 
travellers,  they  pricked  their  cheeks  like 
so  many  needle  points.  The  cold  pene- 
trated until  their  bodies  seemed  to  have 
become  converted  into  masses  of  ice.  If 
Menshikoff  himself,  hardened  as  he  had 
been  by  the  fatigues  of  so  many  campaigns, 
suffered  intensely,  it  may  well  be  imagined 
that  his  invalid  wife  and  delicate  children 
were  more  sensitive  to  their  present  hard- 
ships. This  martyrdom  lasted  an  entire 
night,  during  which  time  their  journey  con- 
tinued without  a  single  halt.  Thus  far" 
they  had  been  travelling  by  moonlight, 
which  was  rendered  brighter  by  the  reflec- 
tion from  the  snow.  Now  the  moon  dis- 
appeared, a  thick  fog  overspread  the  plain, 
and  the  sun  at  last  emerged  from  it  like 
a  ball  of  fire,  diffusing  the  light  without  the 
warmth  of  day. 

The  party  changed  horses  several  times 
"on   the   second   day ;    Menshikoff   and    his 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  179 

children  took  advantage  of  the  momentary 
halt  to  approach  the  sled  of  the  princess. 
Sometimes  they  found  her  sleeping,  or  if 
sufficiently  aroused  to  answer  their  inquiries, 
she  did  so  at  random,  apparently  without 
comprehending  their  meaning.  Tortured 
as  they  were  by  anxiety  on  her  account, 
they 'had  no  means  to  alleviate  her  suffer- 
ing, and  the  second  night  found  them  still 
speeding  on  the  way  over  the  ice-covered 
plains. 

The  heavens,  however,  assumed  a  new 
aspect.  The  sky,  towards  the  north,  was 
at  first  illumined  by  a  pale,  dim  light  which, 
by  degrees,  extended  around  the  horizon, 
and  changed  to  a  bright  red,  as  though  it 
were  the  reflection  of  an  immense  fire. 
This  luminous  arch  was  constantly  chang- 
ing. Now  at  one  extremity,  now  at  an- 
other, again  in  the  centre,  rays  of  light 
streamed  upwards  like  tongues  of  fire  and 
flitted  from  side  to  side,  continually  vary- 
ing in  brilliancy,  color  and  magnitude.  A 
ray  at  one  moment  just  visible  above  the 
horizon,  in  the  next,  would  shoot  upward  in 
a  pyramid  of  flame,  would  suddenly  die 


i8o  MENSHIKOFF; 

away,  and  as  suddenly,  flash  to  the  zenith 
in  brilliant  coruscations. 

This  magnificent  auroral  display,  frequent 
and  beautiful  in  the  polar  regions,  rendered 
the  horses  so  restive  that  the  drivers  were 
obliged  to  halt  for  awhile.  The  princess 
was  roused  from  sleep,  she  sat  upright  upon 
the  bench  of  kibitki,  and  dropped  from  her 
shoulders  the  cloak  which  Michaelow  had 
thrown  around  her.  The  red  light  from 
the  sky  glowed  upon  her  cheeks.  She  fixed 
her  eyes  upon  the  heavens,  and  not  noticing 
her  husband  and  children,  she  said  as  if  to 
herself : 

"  The  sun  and  moon  shall  lose  their  light. 
The  stars  shall  fall  from  heaven.  Listen," 
she  exclaimed,  raising  her  voice,  "  how  all 
the  people  of  the  earth  howl  because  they 
see  the  Son  of  Man  coming  in  the  clouds  in 
power  and  majesty." 

A  prolonged  howl  was  really  heard  in  the 
distance,  but  it  was  the  cry  of  wolves 
which,  startled  by  the  strange  light  turning 
the  darkness  into  day  were  fleeing  to  the 
solitude  of  the  steppes. 

Menshikoff  listened  with  anxious  emotion 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  l8l 

to  the  words  of  his  wife.  Was  she  dreaming, 
or  had  reason  deserted  her? 

"  Do  you  not  hear,"  she  resumed  after  a 
short  silence,  "  do  you  not  hear  the  sound 
of  the  trumpets  blown  by  the  angels  of  the 
Lord  to  collect  the  elect  from  the  four 
quarters  of  heaven  ?  " 

"  My  dear  wife,"  said  the  terrified  prince, 
"  be  calm.  What  you  behold  is  only  an 
aurora  borealis,  a  phenomenon  very  com- 
mon in  these  regions." 

But  her  husband's  words  had  no  effect 
upon  the  princess.  Her  eyes  wandered 
over  her  family  who  surrounded  her. 

"Do  you  not  see,"  she  continued,  ex- 
tending her  hand  towards  the  sky,  "  that 
Christ  is  seated  above  judging  the  living 
and  the  dead,  placing  the  just  on  his  right 
hand  and  the  wicked  on  his  left  ?  O  Lord ! 
admit  me,  I  beseech  Thee,  among  the 
number  of  the  elect,  and  open  to  me  the 
door  of  Thy  heaven  where  it  is  warm  ;  I 
am  cold,  cold  and  frozen.  Reject  me  not ; 
cast  me  not  into  the  exterior  darkness  where 
there  is  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth." 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the 


1 82  ,     MENSHIKOFF; 

anguish  of  the  unfortunate  family,  who 
could  no  longer  conceal  from  themselves 
the  imminent  danger  threatening  the  prin- 
cess. With  tears  streaming  from  his  eyes, 
Menshikoff  swept  the  horizon  at  a  glance, 
in  the  vain  hope  of  discovering  some  shelter 
where  the  poor  invalid  might  repose,  or 
die  tranquilly. 

"  How  long  will  it  take  us  to  reach  To- 
bolsk ? "  he  inquired  of  the  officer  com- 
manding the  escort. 

"  We  could  arrive  there  by  daybreak,"  he 
replied,  touched  by  the  condition  of  the 
princess. 

"  Push  forward  then  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible," said  Menshikoff,  "or  it  will  be  too 
late." 

The  patient  permitted  the  cloak  to  be 
again  placed  around  her  shoulders,  and  the 
horses  were  urged  on  to  their  utmost  speed. 
Towards  daybreak,  Tobolsk,  the  capital  of 
Siberia,  appeared  in  the  distance,  sharply 
defined  against  the  horizon,  where  the  anx- 
ious travellers  had  been  impatiently  watch- 
ing for  it.  This  city,  which  at  that  period 
was  only  an  insignificant  village,  seemed  to 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  183 

the  prince  a  haven  of  safety.  No  soone* 
had  they  reached  the  outskirts,  than  he 
alighted  from  his  sled  and  implored  the 
officer  in  command  to  permit  "him  to  seek 
for  his  wife  a  room  comfortably  warmed. 
Having  obtained  the  permission  he  was 
about  to  make  the  necessary  inquiries, 
when  Michaelow  approached  his  master  and 
informed  him  that  he  had  an  uncle  living  at 
Tobolsk,  that  in  all  probability,  his  mother 
and  sister  were  now  in  the  village  also, 
and  that  they  would  gladly  receive  the 
princess. 

"  Find  out  the  residence  of  your  uncle  at 
once,"  said  MenshikofL  "  Life  or  death 
may  hang  upon  a  moment  of  time." 

The  arrival  of  the  sleds  had  thrown  the 
whole  village  into  commotion.  Isolated  in 
a  measure  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  the 
slightest  circumstance  interrupting  the  mo- 
notony of  their  lives  was  to  the  inhabi- 
tants an  event  of  importance.  As  soon  as 
the  report  was  circulated  that  the  new-, 
comers  were  a  party  of  exiles,  a  crowd  of 
people  impelled  by  curiosity  collected  to 
gaze  upon  them.  Michaelow,  addressing 


184  MENSHIKOFF ; 

one  among  them,  inquired  for  the  residence 
of  the  military  intendant,  Simonow  Na- 
tuschkin. 

"Yonder  it  is,  at  the  corner  of  the 
street,"  replied  the  man  whom  he  had  in- 
terrogated. 

"  Stop,"  said  a  boy,  "  there  is  the  niece 
of  Natuschkin,  standing  before  the  door." 

"  Ah,  it  is  my  beloved  sister  !  "  exclaimed 
Michaelow,  overjoyed. 

He  ran  at  full  speed  towards  Helen  who, 
frightened  by  the  unexpected  appearance 
of  her  brother,  nearly  fainted.  Having 
tenderly  embraced  her,  Michaelow  said : 

"  Go  to  our  mother  and  tell  her  to  prepare 
as  quickly  as  possible  a  warm  bed  for  a  lady 
who  is  dangerously  ill." 

"  But,"  exclaimed  Helen,  "  tell  me  how  it 
happens  that  you  are  here  so  unexpectedly 
and  in  company  with  a  sick  lady  ?  Are 
you  no  longer  in  the  service  of  the  prince  ?  " 

"  Do  not  question  me  now,  dear  sister,  I 
beg  you,"  replied  the  young  man.  "  Later 
you  shall  know  all.  The  patient  is  the 
princess,  the  wife  of  my  master.  Go  at 
once  and  do  what  I  have  requested." 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  1 8$ 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  CHALICE  OF  SORROWS. 

SHAKING  her  head  as  if  scarcely  admitting 
the  possibility  of  the  statement  made  by 
her  brother,  Helen  hastened  to  relate  to 
her  mother  what  had  just  taken  place. 
Matinka  and  Simonow  were  equally  as- 
tonished. 

Our  young  readers  are,  of  course,  aware 
that  the  mother  of  Michaelow  and  Helen 
was  the  first  wife  of  Menshikoff,  so  cruelly 
repudiated  by  him  in  opposition  to  the  law 
of  God.  Deprived  of  all  resources  and  with 
two  children  to  support,  she  had  managed 
to  maintain  herself  and  them  by  the  labor 
of  her  hands.  She  had  brought  them  up  in 
the  fear  of  God  and  in  the  practice  of  every 
virtue.  In  order  to  spare  them  bitter 
regret  and  to  preserve  them  from  discon- 
tent and  envy,  she  regarded  it  as  a  duty  to 


186;  MENSHIKOFF ; 

conceal  from  them  the  painful  events  which 
had  occurred  during  their  early  childhood  ; 
consequently,  she  resumed  her  family  name 
of  Natuschkin,  and  without  informing  them 
that  their  father  was  the  most  noted  and 
powerful  man  in  the  empire,  she  led  them 
to  believe  that  he  had  died  in  the  west  of 
Europe  whither  he  had  been  called  upon 
business.  And  yet  she  had  never  ceased  to 
love  her  husband  devotedly,  and  although 
living  so  far  from  the  capital  where  he  re- 
sided, she  took  part  in  all  his  joys  and 
sorrows  and  received  with  deep  interest  any 
news  concerning  him. 

As  her  children  grew  older,  and  she  re- 
flected upon  the  future  career  of  her  son, 
the  idea  came  to  her  mind  to  obtain  for 
him,  if  possible,  the  position  of  valet  to  the 
prince,  that  he  might  be  enabled  to  protect 
his  father  from  the  numerous  snares  laid  for 
him  by  his  enemies.  To  succeed  the  better 
in  her  design,  she  endeavored  to  inspire  her 
children  with  an  affection  and  reverence  for 
Menshikoff,  frequently  spoke  to  them  of  all 
he  had  done  for  the  prosperity  of  Russia, 
and  at  the  same  time  expressed  regret  that 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  l8/ 

such  men  were  rarely  served  by  attendants 
upon  whom  they  could  rely  with  confidence. 
Thus  prepared  for  the  position  his  mother 
wished  him  to  fill,  Florent  decided  to 
seek  admission  among  the  servants  of  the 
prince,  having  at  his  mother's  request  as- 
sumed the  name  of  Michaelow,  and  given 
her  a  solemn  promise  never  to  speak  of  his 
family  to  his  fellow-servants.  He  secured 
the  situation  she  so  ardently  desired  for  him, 
and  it  was  through  him  she  was  made  ac- 
quainted with  all  that  transpired  in  the 
palace  of  the  great  personage  whom  she 
had  married  in  early  life. 

After  the  expiration  of  twenty  years, 
Matinka,  who  had  always  longed  to  see  her 
husband  again,  impelled  by  an  irresistible 
desire  to  meet  him  once  more,  undertook 
with  her  daughter  the  journey  to  St.  Peters- 
burg. We  have  already  followed  her  in  her 
visit  to  the  home  of  the  man  who  occupied 
the  highest  place  in  Russia,  attainable  by  a 
subject. 

From  St.  Petersburg  she  went  to  pass 
some  time  with  her  brother,  Simonow.  The 
generous  sacrifice  of  his  sister  had  saved  his 


1 88  MENSHIKOFF; 

life,  but  it  did  not  preserve  him  from  exile. 
He  was  transported  to  Siberia  without, 
however,  being  held  as  a  prisoner.  He  re- 
tained his  rank  of  lieutenant,  and  was  as- 
signed to  a  regiment  garrisoned  at  Tobolsk. 
Having  risen  by  promotion  to  a  higher 
grade,  he  was  finally  appointed  to  the 
lucrative  office  of  military  intendant  of  the 
province. 

Simonow  warmly  welcomed  his  sister  and 
niece,  but  he  always  spoke  in  the  most  bit- 
ter terms  of  Menshikoff,  whom  he  had  never 
forgiven  for  the  cruel  repudiation  of  his 
good  and  pious  wife.  Matinka,  therefore, 
carefully  avoided  mentioning  that  Florent 
was  in  the  service  of  the  prince. 

But  she  could  no  longer  conceal  the  fact 
when  Helen  delivered  the  message  sent 
by  Michaelow  ;  for  she  did  not  consider 
herself  at  liberty  to  admit  the  princess  in 
her  brother's  house  without  his  consent. 

Simonow  was  amazed  at  the  communica- 
tion made  by  his  sister. 

"What!"  he  exclaimed,  in  unspeakable 
astonishment,  "you  wish  to  harbor,  to  take 
care  of  the  woman  who  has  been  your  worst 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  189 

enemy,  who  has  supplanted  you,  won  from 
you  the  heart  of  your  .husband  !  It  shall  not 
be  !  Never  will  I  consent,  were  it  only  to 
spare  you  the  humiliation.  For  myself,!  par- 
don Menshikoff  for  my  banishment  to  Sibe- 
ria. Apart  from  the  intense  cold,  I  find  my- 
self very  pleasantly  situated.  But  you,  dear 
sister,  the  slight  he  has  put  upon  you  can 
never  be  forgotten." 

"  Dear  brother,"  replied  Matinka,  "  how 
is  it  possible  that  the  princess  can  be  my 
worst  enemy,  when  she  has  never  seen  me, 
perhaps  has  never  heard  my  name?  You 
do  not  know  how  many  beautiful  traits  of 
character  Florent  ascribes  to  her.  Well 
would  it  be,  if  all  hearts  were  like  hers. 
But  even  had  she  wronged  me,  persecuted 
me,  do  you  not  remember  that  our  religion 
commands  us  to  forgive  our  enemies,  to 
pity  those  who  hate  us,  to  pray  for  those 
who  prosecute  us  ?  Should  we  not  imitate 
our  Saviour,  who  from  the  gibbet  of  the 
cross,  prayed  for  his  executioners  ?  Do  we 
not  say  to  God  every  day :  '  Forgive  us  our 
trespasses  as  we  forgive  those  who  trespass 
against  us  ? '  No,  no,  dear  brother,  I  cannot 


190  MENSHIKOFF; 

believe  that  you  are  speaking  seriously. 
Let  us  then,  at  once,  prepare  to  give  shelter 
to  a  poor  invalid.  I  only  beg  you  not  to 
betray  who  I  am  by  an  unguarded  word. 
God  will  bestow  upon  me  the  strength  nec- 
essary to  support  the  trial  imposed  upon  me 
by  charity." 

At  these  words  of  his  pious  sister,  Simo- 
now  felt  ashamed  of  his  revengeful  feelings 
and  in  a  more  subdued  tone  he  said : 

"  I  cannot  understand  how  it  happens 
that  the  princess  comes  to  Tobolsk  at  this 
season  of  the  year.  Who  knows  ?  Perhaps 
the  wheel  of  fortune  has  turned  and  brought 
misfortune  upon  Menshikoff,  as  he  himself 
has  been  the  cause  of  the  misfortunes  of  so 
many  others.  I  must  inquire." 

He  left  the  house  and  approached  the 
exiled  family  just  in  time  to  witness  a  scene 
calculated  to  rouse  the  indignation  of  the 
hardest  heart.  Menshikoff,  aided  by  his 
son  and  Michaelow,  had  lifted  the  princess 
in  his  arms  and  they  were  about  to  carry 
her  inside  the  dwelling.  The  two  young 
princesses  followed  weeping.  At  that  mo- 
ment a  man,  wearing  a  prisoner's  garb  like 


OR,  THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  igl 

MenshikofFs  made  his  way  through  the 
crowd,  gazed  an  instant  fixedly  upon  the 
prince,  then  breaking  out  in  a  loud  and 
insulting  laugh,  he  exclaimed  with  ferocious 
joy: 

"  Ah  !  ah !  It  is  yourself,  great  Prince 
Menshikoff !  Scoundrel !  hangman  !  mon- 
ster !  So,  the  justice  of  God  has,  at  last, 
fallen  upon  you !  You  have  come  with 
your  worthy  brood  to  share  the  fate  to 
which  you  condemned  us!  You  are  wel- 
come here  !  And  you,  lovely  princesses,  we 
welcome  you  likewise  to  Siberia  !  " 

As  he  said  these  words,  the  wretch  spat 
in  the  faces  of  the  young  girls. 

Menshikoff  had  watched  every  movement 
of  the  unknown  scoffer.  On  beholding  the 
insult  offered  his  innocent  children,  he  could 
scarcely  refrain  from  rushing  upon  the  un- 
feeling miscreant  ;  he  was  restrained  by  the 
fear  that  Michaelow  and  his  son  might  not 
have  the  strength  to  bear  their  precious 
burden  were  his  aid  withdrawn.  He  was 
beside  himself  with  rage.  His  eyes  flashed 
fire  and  his  heart  was  full  to  bursting.  But 
his  hands  were  not  free,  and  he  could  only 


IQ2  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

protect  his  trembling  daughters  by  an  indig- 
nant outbreak  of  passion. 

"  Stop,  wretch ! "  he  cried,  in  thunder 
tones.  "  It  is  cowardly  to  insult  children 
when  you  know  that  their  father  cannot  de- 
fend them.  You  are  aiming  at  me  through 
them,  and  I  promise  you  that  you  shall 
have  cause  to  repent  of  your  scoffs." 

Tears  of  rage  rolled  down  his  cheeks  as 
he  spoke. 

The  bystanders,  touched  by  the  anguish 
and  natural  exasperation  of  the  unfortunate 
father,  interfered  and  forced  the  man  to  de- 
sist from  the  outrages  he  was  heaping  on 
the  two  young  girls,  and  after  a  conflict 
with  him  they  obliged  him  to  retire.  Even 
Simonow  shared  the  feelings  of  indignation 
which  animated  the  other  spectators  of  this 
outragous  scene,  and  he  said  within  him- 
self: 

"  Matinka  is  right :  revenge  is  detestable  ; 
it  is  displeasing  to  God  and  revolting  to 
man."  Addressing  the  prince  kindly  and 
cordially,  he  said  : 

"  Unfortunate  father,  enter  my  house  and 
consider  it  as  your  own.  My  children,"  he 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  193 

added,  turning  to  the  young  princesses, 
"  dismiss  your  fears ;  no  other  inhabitant 
of  Tobolsk  would  be  guilty  of  such  unkind 
treatment  as  you  have  received  from  that 
man.  You  are  welcome  in  my  home." 

The  reader  will  readily  comprehend  the 
effect  produced  by  these  words  upon  the 
humiliated  Menshikoff,  who  turning  towards 
Simonow,  said  in  a  voice  choked  by  his 
tears : 

"  May  God  bless  you,  good  and  noble 
man!" 

The  princess  was  carried  into  Simonow's 
house  and  placed  in  a  warm  bed.  She  gave 
no  sign  of  life  except  an  occasional  convul- 
sive movement  of  the  limbs.  Her  half-open 
eyes  were  fixed  and  motionless.  The  phy- 
sician called  in  by  Simonow,  pronounced  her 
in  a  critical  condition.  To  restore  natural 
action  to  the  skin,  he  ordered  her  to  be 
sponged  with  vinegar,  and  he  directed  the 
thick  blankets  in  which  she  was  enveloped 
to  be  kept  warm  by  hot  bricks  and  cans  of 
boiling  water.  Menshikoff  watched  his  wife 
with  the  deepest  anxiety,  and  the  children 
gave  vent  to  their  sorrow  in  tears. 
13 


194  MENSHIKOFF ; 

"  Oh,  my  God ! "  said  Michaelow's 
mother  to  herself,  "  how  devotedly  he  loves 
the  princess !  He  has  not  a  thought  for 
his  poor  Matinka !  " 

Although  blinded  by  her  tears,  she  was 
indefatigable  in  her  attentions  to  the  pa- 
tient, but  whilst  lavishing  every  care  upon 
her,  her  eyes  wandered  constantly  to  Men- 
shikoff,  and  rested  upon  him  whenever  she 
thought  herself  unobserved. 

Night  was  coming  on  before  the  remedies 
seemed  to  have  any  effect.  xThen  for  the 
first  time,  a  slight  color  tinged  the  temples, 
indicating,,  as  they  supposed,  an  improve- 
ment in  her  condition.  But  when  her  face 
was,  at  first,  bedewed  with  moisture,  and 
then  her  whole  body  bathed  in  a  copious 
perspiration,  the  joy  of  Menshikoff,  and  his 
children  was  unbounded. 

"  Thank  God  !  "  exclaimed  the  prince,  to 
the  physician  who  entered  the  room  at  that 
moment,  "  a  change  has  taken  place  for  the 
better.  The  worst  is  now  over.  She  is 
perspiring  freely." 

The  doctor  looked  incredulous,  as  he  ap- 
proached the  bed  to  verify  the  truth  of 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  19$ 

the  statement.  He  placed  his  hand  on  the 
brow  of  the  princess  and  felt  her  pulse. 
Anxiously  and  impatiently  the  family 
awaited  the  decision  which  would  confirm 
the  hopes  they  cherished,  or  dash  their 
sweet  expectations.  Wavering  between 
fear  and  hope,  they  gazed  earnestly  into 
the  face  of  him  upon  whose  lips  seemed  to 
hang  the  sentence  of  life  or  death. 

"  The  present  crisis  is  not  favorable,"  he 
said.  "  The  skin  no  longer  performs  its 
functions  properly;  the  sweat  is  icy  cold; 
it  is  the  sweat  of  death." 

This  unexpected  announcement  converted 
the  joyous  hopes  of  the  family  into  the 
deepest  sorrow.  They  sobbed  aloud.  Men- 
shikoff  fell  on  his  knees  by  the  bedside  of 
his  dying  wife  and  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands.  The  features  of  the  princess  were 
contracted  convulsively,  her  mouth  was 
alternately  opened  and  forcibly  compressed. 

Recovering  consciousness  she  murmured, 
in  a  feeble  voice,  "  Alexander !  my  hus- 
band ! "  and  extended  her  hand  to  him. 
He  shuddered  as  he  clasped  it  in  his  ;  it  so 
strangely  brought  to  mind  the  icy  coldness 


196  MENSHIKOFF; 

of  the  hand  Matinka  had  laid  on  his  at  the 
moment  when  he  separated  from  her  in  the 
church  of  St.  Andrew.  The  conviction 
forced  itself  upon  him  that  expiation  is  a 
justice,  and  that  every  evil  deed  meets  its 
chastisement. 

"  My  children ! "  said  the  mother,  in  a 
hardly  audible  voice. 

The  young  prince  and  his  sisters  knelt  by 
their  father's  side  and  embraced  the  hand 
of  their  mother  whose  face  was  suddenly 
illumined  by  a  smile  of  ineffable  joy. 

In  the  mean  time,  a  priest  had  been 
called  in  to  prepare  the  soul  of  the  prin- 
cess for  its  passage  from  life  to  eternity. 
Having  administered  the  sacraments,  he 
signed  her  with  the  sign  of  the  cross, 
saying : 

"  Enter  into  the  joy  of  heaven  !  " 

She  made  an  effort  to  speak,  but  the 
words  died  on  her  lips  and  her  head  fell 
back.  Her  soul  had  appeared  before  God. 
Menshikoff  arose ;  the  tears  streamed  from 
his  eyes ;  bowing  his  head,  he  said  : 

"My  God!  Thou  art  just.  To-day  Thou 
smitest  me  for  the  crime  I  committed  in 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  197 

banishing  Matinka  from  my  house.  Ah ! 
Matinka  is  avenged." 

On  hearing  these  words,  Matinka  could 
scarcely  command  her  feelings,  and  was 
near  falling  to  the  ground.  Strengthening 
herself  however  to  approach  Menshikoff, 
she  said  to  him : 

"  Have  no  fear ;  Matinka  has  long  since 
pardoned  you." 

"  Can  that  be  possible  ? "  replied  the 
prince,  as  though  his  mind  were  wandering 
and  he  did  not  comprehend  the  words. 

Returning  to  the  corpse  of  his  wife,  he 
contemplated  her  in  silence. 

Matinka  said  nothing  more  ;  she  thought 
Menshikoff  would  recognize  her,  but  seeing 
herself  mistaken,  she  concluded  that  he  no 
longer  had  any  affection  for  her,  and  though 
his  lips  had  pronounced  her  name,  it  was 
only  because  the  recollection  of  her  had,  by 
chance,  occurred  to  his  mind.  She  contin- 
ued, nevertheless,  to  give  all  the  aid  in  her 
power  to  the  bereaved  family  in  the  prepa- 
rations necessary  for  the  burial ;  these  were 
rendered  particularly  sad  by  the  circum- 
stances attending  them.  The  ground  was 


198  OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE. 

frozen  so  hard  by  the  intense  cold,  that  no 
instrument  made  the  least  impression  upon 
it  until  it  was  softened  by  building  fires  on 
the  spot  destined  for  the  grave  ;  and  even 
then,  it  yielded  with  difficulty  and  after 
great  labor  on  the  part  of  the  workmen. 
What  a  commentary  upon  the  instability  of 
human  grandeur  and  the  uncertainty  of 
earthly  happiness,  was  the  funeral  of  the 
princess !  A  few  weeks  before,  she  was 
mistress  of  more  than  a  hundred  thousand 
serfs,  and  possessed  a  fortune  of  many 
millions  of  roubles  ;  now,  shrouded  in  the 
coarse  garments  of  a  condemned  prisoner, 
her  mortal  remains  were  deposited  in  a 
rough  wooden  box,  and  her  husband  and 
children,  in  the  garb  prescribed  for  exiles, 
followed  her  with  a  few  faithful  friends  to 
the  cemetery.  All  hearts  were  touched  as 
they  laid  her  in  the  grave,  and  the  frozen 
clods  of  earth  fell  heavily  on  the  planks 
composing  her  coffin,  forever  separating  her 
on  earth  from  those  who  loved  her  so  de- 
votedly. A  huge,  rough  block  of  stone  was, 
by  great  exertion,  placed  over  the  grave  as 
a  monument  to  mark  the  spot  where  a 


OR,    THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  199 

princess  lay,  awaiting  the  final  summons. 
No  epitaph  was  inscribed  upon  the  rude 
memorial  of  the  high-born  exile.  Earth's 
grandeur  had  escaped  her  grasp  before  death 
deprived  her  of  them,  and  the  tears  of  her 
sorrowing  family  replaced  the  pageantry 
with  which  wealth  surrounds  the  corpses  of 
the  great. 

The  day  after  the  burial,  Menshikoff  bade 
adieu  to  the  hospitable  Simonow  and  his 
sister.  He  spoke  little  and  kept  his  eyes 
cast  down,  oppressed  by  a  keen  sense  of  his 
present  humiliation.  Matinka  longed  to 
make  herself  known  to  him,  and  Simonow 
advised  her  to  do  so,  but  she  replied  to  her 
brother : 

"  This  is  not  a  suitable  time.  His  mind 
is  absorbed  by  the  thought  of  the  excellent 
woman  whom  he  has  just  lost.  One  is  not 
so  easily  consoled  for  the  death  of  a  beloved 
wife,  of  a  companion  who  has  been  as  de- 
voted in  adversity  as  in  prosperity.  Al- 
though mine  was  the  first  claim  upon  him, 
his  affection  might  not  so  quickly  revive, 
and  were  he  to  be  cold  to  me,  I  should  be 
far  more  unhappy  than  I  am  now  whilst  he 


200  MENSHIKOFF ; 

is  ignorant  of  my  presence.     My  destiny  is 
to  suffer,  and  to  suffer  in  silence." 

Matinka  embraced  with  maternal  tender- 
ness the  children  of  Menshikoff,  when  on 
parting  they  gratefully  thanked  her  for  the 
attentions  she  had  lavished  on  their  mother. 
She  also  considered  it  her  duty  to  reveal  to 
Florent  the  secret  of  his  birth  ere  he  accom- 
panied his  father  to  Berezov.  The  knowl- 
edge was  an  additional  incentive  to  him  to 
continue  his  devoted  care  of  the  exile.  By 
the  order  of  the  princess,  he  had  for  some 
time  addressed  Menshikoff  by  the  name  of 
father ;  but  after  he  became  aware  of  his 
real  relation  to  the  prince,  his  manner  by 
degrees  assumed  a  greater  tenderness  and 
evinced  a  deeper  affection.  Menshikoff 
could  not  fail  to  notice  the  change,  but  he 
ascribed  it  to  the  sympathy  excited  by  his 
misfortunes.  Suffering  had  softened  the 
disposition  of  the  young  prince  and  subdued 
his  pride,  and  touched  by  the  disinterested 
devotion  of  Michaelow,  he  united  with  his 
sisters  in  testifying  his  gratitude  as  far  as 
possible,  and  thenceforth  he  was  treated 
as  a  member  of  the  family. 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  2OI 

Simonow  and  his  sister  provided  the  trav- 
ellers not  only  with  such  provisions  and 
articles  as  would  be  necessary  for  their  com- 
fort, during  the  remainder  of  the  journey, 
but  also  with  such  as  might  be  useful  to  them 
on  their  arrival  at  the  place  of  their  exile. 
After  leaving  Tobolsk,  they  made  no  halt 
even  during  the  night,  but  advanced  rapidly 
towards  the  north.  The  cold  increased  in 
intensity,  and  the  days  became  shorter. 
The  sun  remained  .only  a  few  hours  above 
the  horizon,  appearing  shorn  of  its  brilliancy, 
and  hanging  like  a  red  disk  amid  the  heavy 
fog.  All  nature  seemed  dead,  the  gloom 
was  broken  only  by  the  occasional  passage 
of  a  traveller  in  a  kibitki  drawn  by  dogs  or 
reindeer,  which,  gliding  swiftly  by  them, 
soon  disappeared  in  the  mist  that  shrouded 
the  land* 


202  MENSHIKOFF  J 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  END. 

IT  was  midwihter  when  the  exiles  reached 
Berezov,  their  future  residence.  It  seemed 
miraculous  that  they  had  made  the  journey 
at  that  season  and  had  escaped  having  their 
limbs  frozen.  Berezov  hardly  deserved  to 
be  called  a  town ;  it  was,  in  reality,  only 
an  assemblage  of  frame  houses,  low  and 
gloomy,  and  scattered  over  an  extended 
plain,  the  miserable  inhabitants  of  which 
might,  from  time  to  time,  be  seen  enveloped 
in  fur,  making  their  way  through  the  snow 
to  carry  comfort,  as  far  as  they  could,  to 
other  companions  in  misery. 

Menshikoff  and  his  family  were  harshly 
received  by  the  commandant  of  Berezov, 
who  assigned  as  their  residence  a  log  cabin, 
consisting  of  only  two  rooms.  One  was 
really  a  mere  passage  way  containing  a  fire- 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  2O3 

place.  The  other  was  to  serve  as  sitting- 
room  and  bedroom.  The  larger  portion  of 
this  apartment  was  occupied  by  a  furnace 
constructed  of  brick,  the  top  of  which  was 
intended  to  serve  as  a  bed,  for  the  inhabi- 
tants of  this  hut.  A  wooden  bench  and  a 
rough  table  constituted  all  the  furniture. 
The  planks  forming  the  walls  were  not 
planed.  Two  or  three  small  openings  ad- 
mitted a  dim  light  through  panes  of  glass  so 
coarse  as  to  be  only  semi-transparent.  Even 
at  mid-day  they  were  obliged  to  use  a  taper 
burned  in  tallow,  or  a  resin  torch.  What  a 
painful  contrast  to  the  splendor  formerly 
surrounding  them  !  The  whole  family  were 
forced  to  occupy  the  same  apartment ;  a 
few  bear  skins  protected  them  from  the 
cold  at  night,  and  the  most  indispensable 
articles  for  the  table  and  kitchen  would 
have  been  wanting  to  them  but  for  the 
generous  foresight  of  Michaelow's  mother 
and  uncle. 

The  Emperor,  it  is  true,  had  assigned  ten 
roubles  a  day  for  the  support  of  the  prince 
and  his  family,  and  the  commandant  of 
Berezov  was  directed  to  pay  him  the 


204  MENSHIKOFF ; 

amount.  But  of  what  use  was  money  in  a 
place  where  there  was  scarcely  a  workman 
and  not  even  a  baker?  The  summer  season 
was  so  short  in  that  latitude,  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  till  the  ground.  Grain  was  con- 
veyed thither  from  a  great  distance,  and 
each  family  was  obliged  to  lay  in  a  provision 
of  flour  during  the  summer  for  winter  use 
and  to  bake  their  own  bread.  It  was  use- 
less to  purchase  beer  or  wine,  as  the  exiles 
could  not  store  them  in  a  manner  to  pre- 
vent them  from  freezing.  To  obtain  water 
fit  for  drinking  or  cooking,  they  melted  ice 
or  snow  over  the  fire.  Apart  from  this, 
brandy  was  the  only  drink  they  could  pro- 
cure ;  their  food  consisted  of  bread,  dried 
fish,  or  the  flesh  of  the  bear  or  reindeer,  and 
even  for  this  they  paid  a  high  price.  As  to 
vegetables  or  other  supplies,  there  was  no 
means  of  obtaining  them  at  Berezov  except 
during  the  short  summer  season,  when  the 
Obi  is  navigable  and  opens  communication 
with  Tobolsk. 

Fortunately  for  the  Menshikoff  family, 
Simonow  had  provided  them  with  supplies 
for  the  first  winter.  Michaelow  was  the 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  2O$ 

first  to  rise  in  the  morning,  and  he  lighted 
the  fire  before  commencing  any  other  work. 
He  had  taken  the  precaution  to  buy  wood 
the  very  day  of  their  arrival,  which,  aided 
by  the  young  prince,  he  had  split  ready  for 
use.  As  soon  as  the  fire  was  thoroughly 
kindled,  he  filled  the  kettle  with  pieces  of 
ice  and  boiled  the  water  with  which  to 
make  bread  soup.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
princesses  had  risen  and  cut  the  bread. 
After  a  short  prayer,  the  exiles  partook  of 
the  frugal  repast.  On  Sunday,  they  allowed 
themselves  the  luxury  of  a  cup  of  tea  or 
chocolate  in  place  of  the  bread  soup.  After 
breakfast,  Michaelow,  accompanied  by  the 
young  prince,  sallied  forth  over  the  plains  in 
pursuit  of  some  wild  animal  in  order  to  fur- 
nish meat  for  their  dinner,  whilst  the  two 
young  girls  cleaned  the  rooms  and  mended 
the  clothing  of  the  family. 

As  to  Menshikoff,  he  remained  immovable, 
seated  upon  the  wooden  bench.  Sometimes 
the  tears  fell  from  his  eyes  when  he  con- 
templated his  daughters  working  without 
relaxation,  hardly  able  to  pierce  with  their 
needles  the  thick  garments  which  needed  re- 


206  MENSHIKOFF ; 

pairing,  and  fatiguing  their  eyes  in  the  faint 
light  which  pervaded  the  apartment. 

After  an  absence  of  a  few  hours,  the 
young  men  would  return,  their  frozen  breath 
covering  their  hair  and  fur  caps  with  silver 
threads.  They  would  bring  back  dried  fish 
and  sometimes  foxes,  martens  or  ermines. 
How  joyously  the  two  girls  welcomed  them  ! 
With  what  pleasure  they  listened  to  the 
account  of  the  expedition  which  Michaelow 
and  the  young  prince  never  failed  to  relate ! 
The  father  alone  took  no  part  in  the  conver- 
sation, never  uttered  a  word.  Docile  as  a 
child,  he  seated  himself  at  table  when  told 
that  dinner  was  served.  During  the  repast 
he  rarely  broke  the  silence  in  which  he 
seemed  to  find  comfort.  Occasionally  after 
dinner,  the  girls  went,  accompanied  by  their 
brothers,  to  take  a  short  walk.  On  their  re- 
turn they  invariably  found  their  father  on 
his  knees  absorbed  in  prayer.  On  entering 
the  passage,  they  could  hear  him  asking  par- 
don of  God  for  the  sins  of  which  he  had 
been  guilty,  humiliating  himself  before  the 
Sovereign  Judge  and  imploring  blessings  on 
his  poor  children.  His  sobs  could  be  heard 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  2O/ 

through  the  partition  of  the  room  and  they 
would  have  excited  the  compassion  of  the 
hardest  heart. 

His  long  continued  and  unabated  grief 
at  last  seriously  alarmed  the  exiles.  His 
strength  visibly  failed  and  he  took  no  care 
to  preserve  his  health. 

When  his  son,  Alexander,  with  the  view 
of  changing  the  current  of  his  father's 
thoughts  and  furnishing  some  diversion  dur- 
ing the  long  winter  evenings,  would  ask  him 
some  question  in  regard  to  his  travels  or 
campaigns,  he  invariably  replied  : 

"  My  son,  spare  me  the  recital  of  the 
faults  I  committed.  Could  I  live  over  again 
my  life,  I  would  employ  it  in  a  manner 
more  conducive  to  my  salvation  and  your 
well  being. 

On  one  subject  only  did  he  converse 
willingly,  and  that  was  of  death  and  eter- 
nity. 

Thus  the  winter  passed,  and  now  the 
days  began  to  lengthen.  The  atmosphere, 
warmed  by 'the  sun's  rays,  by  degrees  melted 
the  snow  covering  the  plains  and  the  ice  on 
the  rivers.  Blades  of  grass  sprang  from 


208  MENSHIKOFF ; 

the  dark  soil  and  soon  the  earth  was  car- 
peted with  a  beautiful  green.  The  brown 
branches  of  the  birch  tree  budded,  and  were 
radiant  with  their  spring  foliage.  The  thaw 
broke  the  thick  ice  covering  the  surfaces 
of  the  Obi  and  Irtish,  enormous  blocks  of 
which  floated  to  the  sea.  The  revival  of 
nature  produced  a  beneficent  effect  upon 
the  inhabitants,  who  after  having  been  so 
many  months  shut  up  in  their  smoky  cabins, 
poured  out  into  the  plain  as  though  their 
hearts  had,  like  the  inanimate  objects 
around  them,  imbibed  a  warmth  which 
aroused  in  them  a  sentiment  almost  akin  to 

joy- 
Even  Menshikoff  was  not  insensible  to 
the  awakening  of  the  world  of  nature,  nor 
could  he  resist  the  incessant  entreaties  of 
his  children  to  accompany  them  in  an  oc- 
casional ramble.  One  fine  evening  in  sum- 
mer, they  Avere  walking  together  along  the 
banks  of  the  Obi.  Taking  advantage  of  the 
long  days  of  those  latitudes,  where  the  sun 
hardly  sinks  below  the  horizon,  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  city  were  occupied  with  extra- 
ordinary activity  in  storing  food  for  the 


OR,  THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.  209 

coming  year.  A  large  number  of  boats 
were  descending  the  river,  and  the  joyous 
songs  of  the  sailors  broke  the  silence  which 
had  so  long  reigned  over  that  sombre  re- 
gion. Rafts,  constructed  of  enormous 
trunks  of  trees  and  loaded  with  lumber  and 
fire  wood,  were  floating  down  the  current. 
They  were  out  in  the  forests  of  Siberia  and 
when  they  were  hauled  on  the  shore  they 
failed  not  to  find  ready  purchasers. 

Menshikoff  followed  with  his  eyes  the 
different  rafts  as  they  were  borne  past  him 
by  the  waters  ;  he  seemed  riveted  to  the  spot 
and  preoccupied  by  some  absorbing  thought 
apparently  associated  with  the  scene  before 
him.  When  he  moved  on,  he  heeded  not  his 
children's  efforts  to  engage  him  in  conver- 
sation, but  continued  immersed  in  his  own 
reflections. 

Having  reached  a  small  plot  of  ground 
in  the  centre  of  the  village,  he  stopped  and 
said  in  an  animated  manner : 

"  On  this  very  spot,  I  intend  to  erect  a 

house  to  God,  the  sovereign  master.     My 

soul  yearns  for  the  sacred  calm  of  a  temple 

where  I  may  regain  that  peace  to  which  I 

14 


210  MENSHIKOFF; 

have  long  been  a  stranger.  For  years,  I 
labored  to  accumulate  fleeting  riches  and 
attain  a  vain  glory ;  why  should  I  not  em- 
ploy the  remainder  of  my  life  in  elevating 
to  my  merciful  God  a  monument,  as  a  feeble 
expression  of  my  veneration  and  love  ?  The 
great  Emperor  who  was  my  first  master 
himself  handled  the  hatchet  for  months  to 
aid  in  constructing  a  perishable  abode  for 
man.  How  then,  could  I,  a  poor  exile,  hes- 
itate tq  make  use  of  the  hammer  and  saw  in 
order  to  raise  for  my  companions  in  mis- 
fortune a  church,  where  by  the  blessing  of 
God  they  may  obtain  that  peace  of  soul 
which  is  so  necessary  to  them  in  their 
misery  ?  My  life,  hitherto,  has  been  a  suc- 
cession of  acts  condemned  by  Heaven.  May 
my  last  act,  at  least,  be  blessed  by  the  Most 
High!" 

MenshikofTs  children  hailed  the  proposi- 
tion with  joy.  They  hoped  that  with  such 
an  object  in  view  and  with  constant  inter- 
esting occupation,  he  would  gradually  be- 
come more  cheerful  and  take  his  part  in  the 
family  conversations. 

He  commenced  immediately  the  execu- 


OR,    THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  211 

tlon  of  his  plan.  The  very  next  day  he 
purchased  the  wood  required  for  the  build- 
ing, having  saved  the  amount  from  the  pen- 
sion allowed  him  by  the  Emperor.  Pro- 
vided with  a  leathern  apron  and  taking  his 
box  of  tools,  he  went  daily  accompanied 
by  his  two  sons  to  his  work.  He  seemed 
to  have  regained  all  his  former  energy;  he 
labored  without  relaxation,  taking  no  .re- 
pose during  the  day  and  scarcely  allowing 
himself  a  few  hours  of  sleep  at  night.  His 
daughters,  in  the  mean  time,  were  embroi- 
dering vestments  and  preparing  articles  for 
the  decoration  of  the  altar  and  church. 

This  sudden  transition  from  a  life  .of 
total  inactivity  to  one  of  assiduous  toil  was 
not  beneficial  to  him.  His  strength  soon 
diminished  evidently.  In  vain  his  children 
implored  him  to  moderate  his  ardor ;  he 
pushed  forward  the  work  with  increased 
activity,  as  though  he  feared  he  would  die 
before  realizing  his  idea. 

When  the  winter  set  in,  he  was  forced  to 
discontinue  his  labors,  as  he  had  not  on 
hand  a  sufficient  quantity  of  wood  to  com- 
plete the  edifice.  Deprived  of  his  occupa- 


212  MENSHIKOFF; 

tion,  he  fell  again  into  the  same  melancholy 
state,  rarely  speaking  to  his  children  and 
then  only  of  God  and  eternity. 

The  second  summer  saw  the  completion 
of  the  church.  Then  Menshikoff  said  gently 
but  seriously  to  Michaelow  : 

"  My  son,  amid  the  grains  of  sand  I  have 
met  in  my  journey  through  life,  you  are  the 
only  grain  of  gold.  I  appreciate  the  im- 
mense sacrifice  you  have  made  for  me,  a 
sacrifice  of  which  I  was  wholly  unworthy. 
My  children  and  myself  would  be  basely 
ungrateful,  if  by  retaining  you  longer  with 
us,  we  were  to  become  obstacles  to  your 
advancement  in  life,  and  prevent  you  from 
securing  the  happiness  to  which  you  can  so 
justly  aspire.  Therefore,  leave  this  miser- 
able place  where  a  hard  fate  compels  us  to 
remain.  I  shall  be  eternally  grateful  for 
your  affection  and  fidelity.  You  have  ac- 
customed my  children  to  work  and  to  en- 
dure privations  of  every  kind.  Taught  by 
your  example,  they  have  now  the  courage 
to  be  resigned  to  their  sad  destiny  and  to 
accommodate  themselves  to  it.  You  pres- 
ence here  is  not  so  absolutely  necessary  to 


OR,   THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  213 

us  now,  as  it  was  on  our  first  arrival.  You 
have  a  mother  and  a  sister  whom  you  love. 
Your  first  duty  is  to  them.  Go  then  and 
consecrate  yourself  to  those  who  have  so 
holy  a  claim  upon  you,  and  enjoy  in  their 
society  the  sweet  recompense  infallibly  giv- 
en by  a  pure  conscience." 

Michaelow  attempted  to  make  objections, 
recalling  the  promise  by  which  he  had 
pledged  himself  never  to  leave  the  prince. 

But  Menshikoff  was  unyielding. 

"I  am  not  willing,"  he  said,  "to  have 
you  longer  share  my  miserable  fate.  It  is 
enough  that  my  own  children  should  bear 
the  penalty  of  their  father's  faults." 

He  persisted  in  his  determination,  speak- 
ing in  so  decided  and  serious  a  manner,  that 
at  last,  Michaelow  was  obliged  to  appear  to 
accede  to  his  wishes.  He,  however,  re- 
quested permission  to  remain  at  Berezov 
until  he  could  write  to  his  mother  and  re- 
ceive her  answer.  This  was  granted  with- 
out difficulty. 

The  deep  regret  with  which  Menshikoff  s 
children  contemplated  the  approaching 
departure  of  one  whom  they  had  long 


214  MENSHIKOFF  J 

loved  as  a  brother,  may  be  easily  imagined. 
Every  day  the  prince  would  ask  Michaelow 
if  he  had  heard  from  his  mother.  At  the 
end  of  four  weeks  the  young  man  replied  to 
the  usual  question  that  she  had  written. 
But  he  said  this  with  a  trembling  voice,  and 
tearful  eyes.  From  that  time  Menshikoff 
urged  him  to  hasten  his  departure. 

Michaelow  sorrowfully  collected  his  scanty 
stock  of  wearing  apparel,  made  a  small  par- 
cel of  it  and  went  to  take  leave  of  the  prince, 
who  said  to  him: 

"  Go,  my  son.  Take  advantage  of  the 
fine  summer  weather  to  perform  your  jour- 
ney, and  may  God  grant  you  a  happy  return 
to  your  own  home  !  " 

"  Father !  "  replied  Michaelow,  in  a  voice 
tremulous  from  emotion,  falling  on  his 
knees  before  the  prince,  "  give  me  your 
blessing;  I  am  your  son  and  Matinka's." 

Menshikoff  was  astounded  by  the  an- 
nouncement. He  remained  a  moment  im- 
movable as  a  statue,  still  holding  uplifted 
the  hand  he  had  raised  to  bless  his  child. 
He  scanned  with  evident  anxiety  the  feat- 
ures of  Florent,  as  though  seeking  in  them 


OR,   THE   PEASANT  PRINCE.          21$ 

the  confirmation  of  the  words  just  ad- 
dressed to  him. 

"What!"  he,  at  last,  stammered,  "can 
it  be—" 

"Yes,  I  am  Florent,  your  son  and  Ma- 
tinka's.  As  you  force  me  to  leave  you,  at 
least  let  me  depart  with  your  benediction ; 
that  will  be  my  only  inheritance  and  the 
most  precious  legacy  I  could  receive  from 
you." 

"  Your  only  inheritance  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
with  bitterness.  "  You  are  right,  my  poor 
son.  Miserable  that  I  am !  Your  father  is 
an  unnatural  being."  And  he  sank  back 
exhausted. 

"Father,"  resumed  Florent,  with  inex- 
pressible anguish,  "  have  you  not  an  affec- 
tionate word  for  your  son?  Will  you  not 
embrace  me  that  I  may  once  feel  your  heart 
beat  against  mine  ?  " 

"  May  I  dare  press  in  my  arms  the  son  to 
whom  I  have  caused  so  much  suffering  ?  I, 
who  am  unworthy  to  possess  so  excellent  a 
child!" 

He  opened  his  trembling  arms,  and  Flor- 
ent cast  himself  into  them ;  long  did  they 


2l6  MENSHIKOFF; 

thus  remain,  mingling  their  tears  and  sobs 
whilst  the  other  children  wept  in  silence. 

Suddenly  he  exclaimed  :  "  And  where  are 
Matinka  and  Helen?  Remembrances  of 
the  past  rush  upon  me  ;  it  comes  to  me 
like  a  dream  that  I  saw  them  at  Tobolsk." 

"  Yes,  father,  you  did  see  them  there,"  re- 
plied Florent. 

"  Why  did  they  not  make  themselves 
known?"  resumed  the  prince,  vehemently. 
"  How  could  they  allow  me  to  depart  to 
my  exile  without  one  word  of  consolation  ? 
And  yet,  my  God,"  he  continued,  sadly, 
"  thou  knowest,  I  did  not  deserve  to  receive 
from  them  that  act  of  charity.  Yet  one 
kind  word  would  have  been  a  balm  to  my 
bleeding  heart." 

"Father,"  said  Florent,  "gladly  would 
my  mother  and  sister  have  accompanied 
you  here,  have  shared  your  fate  and  striven 
to  mitigate  your  sufferings.  In  remaining 
silent,  they  did  violence  to  their  feelings, 
but  not  knowing  your  disposition  in  their 
regard,  they  feared  to  discover  themselves 
to  you." 

"  They  were  right ;  I  had  been  cruel  and 


OR,  THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  21? 

unkind  to  them,  although  I  never  forgot 
them  or  you.  You  were  ever  present  to  my 
mind,  even  amid  the  grandeur  of  the  im- 
perial court ;  how  much  more  you  have 
occupied  my  thoughts  in  my  present  soli- 
tude. I  now  recall  your  mother's  voice 
when  she  said  to  me  at  Tobolsk  :  '  Matinka 
has  pardoned  you.'  Alas !  blinded  as  I  was, 
I  did  not  recognize  her  when  she  spoke,  and 
Heaven  denies  me  the  happiness  of  embrac- 
ing this  noble  woman  and  my  beloved 
Helen." 

"  Father,  this  happiness  is  in  store  for 
you,  if  you  desire  it.  My  mother  and  sister 
are  at  no  great  distance.  Say  but  the  word, 
and  they  will  obey  the  summons." 

Menshikoff  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  Tell  me, 
tell  me,"  he  exclaimed,  with  feverish  impa- 
tience, "  where  they  are.  Let  me  go  to 
them,  and  implore  pardon  on  my  knees." 

Trembling  with  emotion,  he  approached 
the  door.  But  Florent  passed  out  before 
him,  and  a  moment  after  entered  with  his 
mother  and  Helen. 

Who  could  depict  the  scene  so  touching, 
so  moving,  when  the  husband  and  wife  so 


2l8  MENSHIKOFF; 

long  separated  were  reunited  ?  Menshikoff 
gazed  in  anxious  uncertainty  upon  Matinka, 
but  when  she  opened  her  arms,  he  exclaimed 
in  a  transport  of  joy : 

"  Yes,  dearest  Matinka,  you  have  par- 
doned  me !  Oh,  my  God !  thou  hast  re- 
stored to  me,  so  unworthy  of  Thy  mercy, 
the  angel  whom  Thou  gavest  me,  and  whom 
in  my  blind  folly  I  rejected  ! " 

The  children  of  Matinka  and  the  princess 
embraced  each  other  with  all  the  warm 
affection  of  brothers  and  sisters  who  had 
been  long  separated. 

When  their  emotion  had,  in  a  measure, 
subsided,  Menshikoff  accompanied  Matinka 
to  the  church.  They  went  alone,  desiring 
no  witness  as  they  offered  their  fervent 
thanksgiving  for  the  blessing  of  their  re- 
union. They  were  not  to  be  again  sepa- 
rated upon  earth ;  but  MenshikofFs  health 
and  strength,  impaired  by  previous  suffer- 
ing, failed  still  more  rapidly  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  feelings  excited  by  his 
inexpressible  happiness.  One  desire  alone 
animated  him — that  was  the  completion  of 
the  simple  church -he  had  labored  to  erect. 


OR,    THE   PEASANT   PRINCE.  2IQ 

This  wish  was  gratified  before  the  end  of 
the  summer.  A  priest  was  appointed  to 
celebrate  the  Divine  Mysteries,  and  no 
sooner  had  the  last  sound  of  the  hammer 
died  on  the  ear  than  the  bell  summoned  the 
inhabitants  of  Berezov  to  the  consecration 
of  the  little  temple.  The  faithful  hastened 
eagerly  to  be  present  at  the  august  cere- 
mony. Wax  candles  burned  upon  the  altar, 
and  shed  a  soft  light  upon  the  shrine  of  our 
Lady  and  upon  the  richly  embroidered 
hangings,  the  work  of  the  daughters  of 
Menshikoff.  As  soon  as  the  ceremony  of 
the  consecration  was  concluded,  all  present 
arranged  themselves  in  two  rows,  between 
which  Menshikoff,  Matinka  and  their  chil- 
dren advanced  towards  the  altar.  The 
priest  blessed  anew  a  union  which  had  been 
broken  years  before  by  pride  and  ambition. 
The  energy  of  the  prince  was,  however, 
completely  broken  down,  and  he  became 
daily  more  feeble.  His  soul,  on  the  other 
hand,  seemed  to  strengthen  in  proportion 
to  the  decayof  his  vital  powers.  He  was 
restored  to  happiness,  he  was  reconciled  to 
the  God  whom  he  had  offended,  to  the 


220  MENSHIKOFF  ; 

woman  whom  he  had  repudiated,  and  to  his 
own  conscience.  .  Happy  in  the  midst  of  his 
family,  he  was  still  more  happy  in  the  hope 
of  the  blissful  eternity  to  which  a  merciful 
Saviour  permitted  him  to  aspire.  His  time 
was  divided  between  exercises  of  piety  and 
his  family.  His  previous  life  had  been  one 
of  fierce  struggle  for  earthly  aggrandize- 
ment ;  its  close  was  to  be  in  peace  and 
serenity.  He  viewed  with  perfect  tran- 
quillity and  resignation  the  approach  of 
death.  He  conversed  calmly  with  his  wife 
and  children  of  their  temporary  separation, 
and  encouraged  them  to  bear  the  trial  by 
the  hope  of  a  reunion  in  heaven.  He  ex- 
pired peacefully  November  2,  1729. 

The  exiled  family  were  in  the  deepest 
affliction,  and  their  dreary  home  was  ren- 
dered still  more  desolate  by  the  loss  they 
had  sustained  ;  but  on  the  approach  of  spring 
they  suddenly  received  the  news  of  the  death 
of  the  young  Emperor,  Peter  II.  He  had 
been  carried  off  by  an  attack  of  small-pox, 
and  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Peter  the  Great, 
had  ascended  the  throne  of  Russia.  One 
of  the  first  acts  of  her  reign  was  to  pardon 


OR,   THE  PEASANT  PRINCE.  221 

the  unfortunate  Menshikoff,  and  to  reinstate 
him  in  all  his  former  possessions.  But  he 
no  longer  needed  the  favor  of  earthly  sov- 
ereigns ;  the  Lord  of  Lords  had  already  ad- 
mitted him,  we  may  piously  hope,  to  His 
eternal  kingdom.  Nevertheless,  the  favor 
of  the  Empress  restored  to  his  exiled  chil- 
dren their  high  rank  in  the  world  and  their 
wealth.  The  children  of  Matinka  remained 
in  their  obscurity.  Happily,  misfortune 
had  taught  the  daughters  and  son  of  the 
princess  a  lesson  of  wisdom  and  kindness. 

"  Brother,"  said  Prince  Alexander  to 
Florent,  embracing  him  tenderly,  "  what  is 
mine  is  yours.  Let  us  ever  be,  to  each 
other  devoted  brothers." 

He,  with  the  princesses,  spoke  in  a  similar 
manner  to  Matinka  and  Helen,  and  they 
were  faithful  to  their  promises. 

All  returned  to  St.  Petersburg,  where 
they  were  soon  joined  by  Simonow,  and 
during  the  remainder  of  their  lives  they 
were  united  by  the  closest  bonds  of  affec- 
tion. The  marriage  of  the  princesses  to  two 
great  lords  of  the  court,  and  the  elevation 
of  the  prince  to  the  highest  dignities  of  the 


222  MENSHIKOFF. 

empire,  did  not  break  the  tie  established 
by  a  common  misfortune  and  a  reciprocal 
fidelity.  Matinka  and  her  children  were 
happy  in  their  humble  sphere,  as  they  had 
no  aspirations  to  rise  above  it.  They  ac- 
cepted from  the  munificent  offers  of  the 
young  prince  only  what  was  requisite  to 
enable  them  to  live  comfortably  and  simply. 
When  Alexander  and  his  sisters  visited 
Matinka,  they  would  often  say :  "  We  are 
rich,  but  you  are  richer  in  having  no  desires 
beyond  what  you  possess." 

MenshikofFs  tomb  is  still  seen  in  the 
northern  part  of  Siberia.  Far  from  him  lies 
his  second  wife,  and  still  farther,  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Moscow,  Matinka  and  her 
children  await  the  great  day  of  the  Lord, 
which  will  reunite  them  in  a  happy  eternity 


THE  END. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  051  526     2 


